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HEROES ALL 


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MORE TALES OF REAL DOGS 


By 

Nrs , ELEANOR FAIRCHILD PEASE 

Author of 

BRAVE TALES OF REAL DOGS, GAY PIPPO, 
JOLLY LITTLE CLOWN, etc. 



Pictures by 

GREGORY ORLOFF 



ALBERT WHITMAN & COMPANY 


CHICAGO 
19 4 0 

c C*-jb^5o 









©ci A 


Copyright, 1940, by 
Albert Whitman & Company 





To 

M. P. 



144725 

XT' 

Printed in the U.S.A. 

RECEIVED 

SEP 2 71940 

COPYRIGHT OFFICE 


FOREWORD 


Man’s Good Friend 

How and when did dog and man first become acquainted ? 
We can only guess. 

Many, many thousands of years ago when the world was 
much younger, the dog was a wild creature who roamed in 
packs through forest and over plain with others of his kind, 
as wolves do today. In those long ago days one of his 
relatives was the bear. His nearer kin were the fox and 
the wolf. They came from a common ancestor who was a 
slender, short-legged creature with a pointed head, large 
upstanding ears and a long tail, not much resembling the 
dogs we know today. 

Man was then a beetle-browed creature with thick, heavy- 
set body, who hunted for his food. When he spoke, he 
gave out gutteral grunts. He was just learning the use 
of fire and of metal. 

Dog and man probably first became acquainted when the 
wild dog began to follow those early hunters; snatching at 
the remains of a kill; carrying away to his bed of leaves the 
broken bits of bone that were left after man had eaten. 
And the dog may have curled up beside the warm embers 
of the man’s fire, and found it pleasanter than the chilly 
bed of leaves that he had made for himself. He must 
have begun to grasp the idea that living with man could 
be more comfortable and less dangerous than roaming with 
the pack. 

As for the hunter, his days were beset with danger. But 
his peril was boundless when the darkness of night closed 
in around him and sharp eyes peered at him from the for- 


est, or strange rustlings and murmurs disturbed his rest. 
The small wild dog, lingering warily about the edge of the 
campfire, scented more quickly than the man the approach 
of danger. His growls of alarm must often have warned 
the sleepy hunter and startled him into action. 

Sometimes the hunter may have discovered an orphaned 
litter of wild puppies in the forest and carried them home 
to the cave to grow up with his own children. And it could 
not have been long before the hunter discovered how useful 
was the dog's keen scent in helping to find and follow the 
game on which they depended for food. 

The dog, used to running in packs, had a sociable nature. 
He could not have found it hard to adapt his ways to those 
of his new two-legged friends. He left his own kind and 
came to live with man. He chose of his own will to live 
more comfortably and pleasantly. In return he gave will¬ 
ing service and loyalty and obedience. As man became civ¬ 
ilized, the dog too became gentler in his ways and continued 
to share the growing comforts that man created. He was 
the first animal to do so. 

Traces of his friendly association with man are found 
in all parts of the world. The cave man sketched his out¬ 
lines on the walls of his gloomy home where they can still 
be seen. Ages later the dog was pictured in stone on the 
walls of Egyptian temples and tombs, and in Assyrian 
palaces, ruined now after seven thousand years. They show 
that from a wild creature he had come to be a useful mem¬ 
ber of society, hunting with his master, fighting in battle, 
guarding flocks and herds, watching the home. 

His portrait as guardian of the home appears in mosaic 
on the floor of a villa of ancient Rome with words that 
say, '‘Cave canem!” or “Beware the dog!" The Greeks left 
paintings of him. The Vikings in their day composed long 
poems in his honor. By these and numberless other tokens, 
we know that from the earliest dawn of history the dog 
has been man’s devoted friend. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


TRAINED FOR SERVICE 

Flambeau, an Alpine Postman.11 

When Pride Is Hurt.27 

The Hounds of Ibiza.36 

A Helpful Little Newsie.41 

Artful Dodger.42 

Big Boy.49 

Eyes for the Master.59 

A Friendly Enemy. ...... 76 

Shepherd Dogs in Peace and War.77 

A Smart Watchdog.84 

Rogue Dogs and Honest Dogs.85 

The Faithful Hound of Aubery.96 

UNSUNG HEROES 

Tip, the Story of a Dog and a Fire .... 105 

When Tootsie Played Fireman.109 

How Jerry Saved His Master.112 

Brownie Pays a Debt . . ..119 

Little Skipper.125 

The Dog Nobody Wanted.133 

Pals.143 

Boss, A Dog of the Cumberlands.155 

Faithful Fritz.163 

Skipper's Lost Appetite.169 

JUST FOR FUN 

Waldi.177 

Buster.191 

Prince.193 

Golda.198 

The Twenty-five Cent Pup.201 

Some Famous Models.211 

The Lost Gold Piece .......... 221 




































































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TRAINED FOR SERVICE 



































































FLAMBEAU, AN ALPINE POSTMAN 


M AJESTIC and silent, the snow-crested 
peaks of the Savoy Alps tower above 
the village of Lanslebourg in France, where 
soldiers of the 99th Regiment of Alpine In¬ 
fantry are stationed. A road winds from the 
village up into the mountains. The traveler 
who follows it in summertime passes first 
through meadows bright with flowers, then 
on into the green silence of the Forest of 
Arc. Still following the road, he comes out 
of the forest and enters a strange bare land 
of rocky cliffs, where the air is cold with the 
breath of snow. After climbing slowly for 
two hours he arrives at last at the summit. 
There the tri-color of France waves over the 
Fort of Sollieres, which guards one part of 
the frontier between France and Italy. 

In winter Sollieres is buried so deep in 


11 


12 


HEROES ALL 


snow that scarcely anything can be seen of 
it except the smoke that curls up from 
its chimneys. The soldiers, who are called 
Alpins, lead a lonely life, one filled with 
hardship and danger. 

Each day someone must make the ascent 
from the village to Sollieres, carrying the 
soldiers’ mail and the reports and orders for 
the Commandant. The journey is slow and 
difficult and requires four hours to go and 
return even in the best of weather. In win¬ 
ter, when the storms sweep through the 
mountains, there are days at a time when no 
one can reach the summit. 

About a dozen years ago a group of sol¬ 
diers stood in the yard of the barracks at 
Lanslebourg idly watching a fight between 
a young German shepherd dog and several 
other dogs at the Fort. The shepherd dog 
was tough and hard-fighting. The odds were 
against him but he asked no quarter and 
gave none. He had one of the dogs by the 
throat when a soldier interfered. 


FLAMBEAU, AN ALPINE POSTMAN 


13 


“Stop it, Flambeau!” he shouted. “Let go 
there!” 

Flambeau paid no heed to the command, 
and the soldiers dragged him panting and 
growling from the fight. 

“You’re a sale cabot, no good,” the men 
said. “What can we do with you if you keep 
on fighting like that? You will kill all the 
other dogs.” 

The soldiers put him on a leash and held 
a council of war over him. They all agreed 
that in spite of his quarrelsome ways Flam¬ 
beau was clever, intelligent, hardy, and 
brave. These were such fine qualities that 
the Alpins thought he should be taught to 
use them in better ways than fighting other 
dogs. 

At last one of the men offered a plan. Why 
not train Flambeau to carry the mail be¬ 
tween the barracks and the Fort? Life at 
the Fort would be good for him, there would 
be no dogs to fight, and he would be using 
his strength in a good cause. 


14 


HEROES ALL 


“How would you like that, Flambeau?” 
they asked. 

He looked at them and wagged his tail. 
It was enough. They decided that Flam¬ 
beau’s training should begin at once. 

That very day a soldier took him up the 
long road to the summit. It was his first visit 
to those high regions, and he sniffed the cold 
air of the snowy peaks curiously as he wan¬ 
dered around the Fort. The soldiers made 
him welcome and gave him a fine meal of 
scraps from the mess tables. When he had 
eaten his fill he was given a clean bed of 
fresh straw. 

“What a life!” Flambeau must have 
thought. “Far better than living at the bar¬ 
racks.” 

He did not know that he had just started 
on a period of hard training. When morning 
came, his trainer led him down the long 
rocky road to Lanslebourg. As soon as he 
reached the barracks he was shut up in a 
kennel, and for three days he was given no 


FLAMBEAU, AN ALPINE POSTMAN 


15 


food. In vain he whined and howled and 
whimpered, for no one paid the slightest at¬ 
tention to him. Flambeau could not under¬ 
stand it. He remembered the good supper 
and soft bed and kind treatment he had re¬ 
ceived at the Fort, and he wished that he 
were back again. This was exactly what his 
trainer wanted him to do. 

At the end of three days, his door was 
finally opened. Without waiting to say good¬ 
bye, Flambeau left the barracks on the run 
and made a beeline for the road that led to 
Sollieres. He had been there only once be¬ 
fore, but in no time at all he was scratching 
at the door of the Fort. What a royal wel¬ 
come he received. Again he was petted and 
fed and given a bed. But poor Flambeau! 
On the following morning he was again led 
down to Lanslebourg. 

This procedure was kept up every day for 
a week, and in this way Flambeau was 
trained to make the journey from the bar¬ 
racks to the Fort speedily and directly. Soon 


16 


HEROES ALL 


he began to know what was expected of him, 
for the dogs of Flambeau’s breed are quick 
to learn and they make excellent and trust¬ 
worthy messengers. When the officers de¬ 
cided that Flambeau was ready to be trusted 
with the mail, a saddler in the village made 
a harness for him, fastened around his body. 
On either side of it hung a mail pouch. 

It was a great day in Flambeau’s life when 
the harness was strapped on him, the mail 
was slipped into the pouches, and he trotted 
off up to the Fort on his first trip alone in the 
service of the government. For a while he 
was led down to the barracks each afternoon, 
but in a few days the dog learned that he 
must make the entire trip by himself. Flam¬ 
beau took only forty-five minutes to climb 
the mountain, whereas it took a human being 
two hours to cover the same route. Never 
did human mail carrier perform his duty 
more conscientiously or proudly than did 
Flambeau. 

That was the beginning of ten years of 


FLAMBEAU, AN ALPINE POSTMAN 


17 


faithful service. Except for one time when 
he was lost in a ravine, he never failed to 
make the trip. In the dead of winter, when 
fierce storms howled through the mountains, 
Flambeau fought his way gamely to the 
Fort, laden with mail. How can one praise 
him enough for such courage and faithful¬ 
ness! 

Many times he risked his life, and one time 
he all but lost it. He had left the barracks 
with the mail on a day when one of the worst 
storms of the year was brewing in the peaks. 
As Flambeau struggled upward through the 
blinding snow, the trail grew more and more 
difficult. He leaped through drifts, then 
stopped to rest, then advanced by further 
leaps. The wind raged and tore at him. As 
the brave dog fought his way, he must have 
had bright visions of the warm fireside in 
the Fort and the good friends who were 
waiting for him. He may even have barked 
desperately, hoping that someone would 
come to aid him. 


18 


HEROES ALL 


At last he was within sight of the summit. 
One more leap and he would be there. Poor 
Flambeau! He jumped toward what looked 
like solid ground. Instead it was an over¬ 
hanging shelf of hardened snow that gave 
way with his weight and plunged him into 
a deep ravine. 

For sixty hours Flambeau lay, exhausted 
and helpless, while the wind heaped a snowy 
blanket over him. As the first hours passed 
and he did not appear with the mail the men 
at Sollieres grew anxious. Then, in spite of 
the storm that was raging about the Fort, 
a detachment of soldiers went out to look 
for him. The storm had blown away every 
trace of his footprints, and they scoured the 
ground in every direction, thinking he might 
have been hurled from the road by the force 
of the wind. For two and a half days the men 
searched. They would not give up. At last 
they found him, almost dead, at the bottom 
of the ravine. 

It was no easy task to raise him from the 



























































































. 
















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FLAMBEAU, AN ALPINE POSTMAN 21 

spot, but they finally succeeded. They car¬ 
ried him back to the warm Fort, where he 
was given the best of care and very soon 
was ready to take up his duties again. 

Flambeau took his work very seriously, 
seeming to understand its importance. When 
on duty, he never let anyone approach him 
near enough to touch the sacks he carried, 
and he would make friends with neither dog 
nor human being while working. After the 
mail had been safely delivered however, he 
was willing to play. Sometimes his faithful¬ 
ness to duty was very amusing. 

One time one of the officers was waiting 
for his pass of leave, which was to be sent 
him from the barracks to the Fort. Anxious 
to receive it on a certain day, he decided that 
he would save time and get the pass more 
quickly if he put on his skiis and slid down 
the mountain to a certain place on the road 
where Flambeau was sure to pass. There 
he would stop the dog, get the pass from 
the mail pouch, and go down to the village. 


22 


HEROES ALL 


He started down the descent on his skiis. 
Before long the sturdy, four-footed postman 
trotted into sight and the young officer 
hailed him. Flambeau wagged his tail pleas¬ 
antly, for the officer was one of his friends. 
When the man tried to stop him, however, 
Flambeau slipped out of his grasp. Again 
and again the officer tried to catch him, but 
each time Flambeau dodged, circling about, 
and finally went on his way up the mountain. 

Crestfallen and disappointed, the officer 
had to trudge back up the long, steep road 
to the Fort. His pass of leave was waiting 
for him there, but it was too late for him to 
start that day. In spite of his disappoint¬ 
ment, the officer could not help but praise 
Flambeau for doing his duty. 

Every day, winter or summer, the Alpins 
went out from the Fort on expeditions, 
either for exercise or in military maneuvers. 
When Flambeau was off duty he accom¬ 
panied the men on these trips. There were 
times when they were lost in the fog or in 


FLAMBEAU, AN ALPINE POSTMAN 


23 


a storm. Often it was Flambeau’s keen in¬ 
telligence that found their trail for them and 
brought them safely to the Fort again. Many 
a soldier owed his life to Flambeau. 

One time two of the Alpins from the Fort 
were buried by an avalanche. For a long 
time their bodies could not be found, but at 
last Flambeau found those of both men, and 
thus made it possible for the soldiers to have 
a military funeral and the honors that were 
their due. 

After ten years of faithful service, Flam¬ 
beau began to show signs of age and weari¬ 
ness. He was as willing as ever, but the 
daily trip up and down the mountain became 
more and more of a task to him. His friends, 
the Alpins, looked at him sadly, knowing 
that even the best of dogs can live only a 
few years. 

Flambeau had several sons and daughters, 
all fine, well-bred creatures who were as 
brave and hardy as their father. Frick, 
Ginette, Fauvette, and Sollieres, nicknamed 


24 


HEROES ALL 


Sosso, were among them. One was famous 
at sledge racing, and another for his skill 
in finding and bringing in equipment lost 
in maneuvers. The soldiers decided that 
Sosso would be the best to take up his father’s 
work. 

His training began at the Fort instead of 
in the barracks. Daily his trainer took him 
down the road, each time a little farther, 
over the trail where Flambeau had just 
passed. At last Sosso went the whole distance 
to the barracks and returned by himself, ar¬ 
riving a half hour after Flambeau. He was 
young and strong and swift. Once he made 
the trip in an hour and a quarter—record 
time. 

At last the soldiers knew that Sosso was 
ready to carry the mail. Flambeau could 
now have the rest that he so well deserved. 
They found a good home for him in Lansle- 
bourg and retired him from active duty. 

In October of the year 1937, when the trees 
in the Forest of Arc were brown and with- 


FLAMBEAU, AN ALPINE POSTMAN 


25 


ered from the frost and when the chill in 
the air told that winter would soon be there, 
Flambeau felt something strange calling to 
him. He rose and started from the village, 
walking slowly along the road, over the 
bridge that spans the River Arc, past the 
meadows. He went on into the forest through 
which he had trotted so many times, climb¬ 
ing painfully now toward the peaks of the 
summit. 

This is the way the soldiers tell it, “He 
grew more and more tired as he climbed. A 
strange heaviness was in his limbs. How 
long it took him to make the ascent that day, 
no one knows, but at twilight a soldier on 
guard saw him coming slowly up the road. 
At every step he stopped and rested. 

“ ‘Look! It is Flambeau coming back to 
us/ he cried. ‘0—he, fellows! It is Flam¬ 
beau!’ ” 

The soldiers gathered around the old dog. 
Something was wrong. He lay down, too 
weary to respond to their words and caresses. 


26 


HEROES ALL 


He had come up to the Fort to die, and at 
their feet he breathed his last, happy to be 
with the Alpins who had been his friends. 

Not one of those hardy soldiers was 
ashamed of the tears in his eyes. They gave 
Flambeau a solemn military funeral, with 
the flag wrapped about him, a bugler play¬ 
ing last call, and a drummer beating out the 
roll. It was all they could do now for the 
brave dog who had served them so faith¬ 
fully. 

Soon there will be a monument on the sum¬ 
mit near the Fort, showing Flambeau seat¬ 
ed beside an Alpin, looking out over the 
valley. On it will be a tablet telling his story. 

It is Monsieur Pierre Gelloy, the post¬ 
master of Lanslebourg, who has made it pos¬ 
sible to tell here the story of Flambeau’s life. 


WHEN PRIDE IS HURT 


A MONG the most intelligent, sensitive, 
»• and lovable of all dogs are the bird 
dogs, so called because they are trained to 
hunt wild fowl. These dogs are spaniels, 
pointers, setters, and retrievers. Some are 
trained to hunt only on land; others hunt 
only waterfowl. Many interesting stories 
are told about them, but to understand the 
stories one must know something of the way 
in which they hunt. 

When hunting with his master, the bird 
dog’s first duty is to locate the game. He 
goes ahead of the hunter, scenting out the 
birds to discover their hiding places, which 
are usually in tall grasses and underbrush. 
He is very quiet, for he knows that the slight¬ 
est sound will alarm the birds into flight. 
The moment the dog’s keen nose catches 


27 


28 


HEROES ALL 


the scent of game ahead he stops short and 
points, which is his way of telling the hunter 
that there is game beyond. When pointing, 
his motionless body is rigid, his back and 
tail form a perfect horizontal line from head 
to tip, and usually one of his forepaws is 
lifted from the ground. His nose is extend¬ 
ed toward the spot where the game lies hid¬ 
den. Without sound or movement he stands 
there while the hunter prepares to shoot. 
When the hunter is ready, the dog moves 
ahead and flushes the game, that is, he dis¬ 
turbs it into flight, and at that moment the 
hunter aims and shoots* 

Bird dogs are courageous. They have 
learned not to be afraid of the sharp report 
of the gun or the shot that whistles over 
them. After the game is brought down, the 
dog searches for it, grasps it carefully be¬ 
tween his teeth, and brings it to his master. 
This is called retrieving. A good retriever 
will carry a bird without even ruffling its 
feathers. 


WHEN PRIDE IS HURT 


29 


When two dogs are hunting with their 
master and one of them scents game, and 
points, it is the duty of the other dog also to 
point immediately, but without moving far¬ 
ther. This is known as honoring the point. 
A dog which has not been carefully trained, 
or one that is not obedient, will sometimes 
stupidly refuse to honor the other dog’s 
point. By moving on, he frightens the game 
and spoils the other dog’s work. 

A good dog does his work so well that he 
sometimes becomes disgusted if the hunter 
is careless or clumsy. The dog seems to feel 
that his work has been for nothing. A dog 
has been known to walk away from his mas¬ 
ter, refusing to hunt any longer, after the 
hunter failed to bring down the birds which 
the dog had found for him. 

Hunting dogs are not only proud of what 
they accomplish, but they are extremely 
sensitive. If they think their work is not 
fully appreciated, or if they are punished 
or scolded unjustly, they grieve deeply. 


30 


HEROES ALL 


Tresor was a pointer who belonged for a 
number of years to a Russian gentleman. 
His story was told to me by that gentle¬ 
man’s nephew who, like his uncle, enjoyed 
hunting. 

When this dog was growing old, his mas¬ 
ter thought that a younger dog might prove 
better in the field, so he bought a new pointer 
and gave Tresor to his nephew. It was a 
great shock to Tresor to be given away and 
he took it badly. Although he soon grew 
attached to the nephew, he could not forgive 
his old master for giving him up for a 
younger dog. He showed his grief in a num¬ 
ber of ways. 

If the older man came to his nephew’s 
room, Tresor refused to notice him. When 
his old master spoke to him, he turned his 
head away, gazing blankly into space. To¬ 
ward his new master, however, he was lov¬ 
ing and obedient, and he hunted very well 
with him. 

One day the uncle proposed that they take 


WHEN PRIDE IS HURT 


31 


the two dogs, Tresor and the new one, out 
for some shooting. As soon as they started, 
Tresor, instead of going ahead with the 
younger dog, fell back. The other dog went 
on alone. Tresor was ordered to hunt but 
refused, and remained gloomily at his mas¬ 
ter’s side. 

The young dog scented game and came to 
point. All was quiet for a moment. Sud¬ 
denly Tresor, paying no heed to the younger 
dog’s point, rushed noisily into the under¬ 
brush. He barked and scurried around, 
frightening and scattering the birds so that 
shooting in that spot became impossible. 

The uncle was angry with the old dog.. 
Never before had Tresor done such a thing. 
After a little they went on, hoping that the 
pointer would behave himself if given an¬ 
other chance. They had walked for quite a 
distance, with the young dog leading and 
Tresor still sulking at his master’s heel, 
when once more the younger dog came to 
point. Scarcely had they stopped before 


32 


HEROES ALL 


Tresor again rushed ahead. Again the birds 
went fluttering to the four winds. 

The old gentleman was in a rage, for his 
hunting was quite spoiled. They turned 
homeward. The following day the nephew 
went out to hunt alone with Tresor and the 
old dog performed with his usual skill. 
There was only one explanation for his 
strange actions of the day before. Tresor 
was so grieved at being discarded for the 
younger dog that he deliberately did all he 
could to hinder and bother him. 

Another hunting story is told about a 
young cocker spaniel who was naturally 
keen and very well trained. His master had 
invited a friend to hunt with him. During 
the morning’s sport they brought down a 
bird. The spaniel went into the brush and 
retrieved it, bringing it back and laying it 
in his master’s outstretched hand, just as he 
had been taught. Instead of putting the 
bird immediately in his game bag, the dog’s 
owner handed it to his friend to examine. 


WHEN PRIDE IS HURT 


33 


The dog was watching eagerly, and the 
moment his master gave the bird to the 
other man, the spaniel turned and trotted 
away into the woods. No amount of calling 
could rnake him return. They heard him 
scouting around in the underbrush, appar¬ 
ently having a good time hunting by him¬ 
self. “All right,” he seemed to be saying, 
“if you don’t care enough to keep what I 
bring you, I won’t work for you any more.” 

The two men went to another field and the 
spaniel trailed along. His master took him 
aside and went on alone with him, thinking 
this would make him happy and willing to 
work. The dog began to hunt again and ap¬ 
parently all was going well. He raised a bird 
which his master brought down, and then 
ran in to retrieve it. Instead of returning 
with it, however, the spaniel ran away with 
the bird in his mouth. It was evident that he 
had decided to do as he pleased for the rest 
of the day. Their sport ruined, the hunters 
went home. It was some time before the 


34 


HEROES ALL 


little spaniel would hunt properly again. His 
feelings had been too deeply hurt. 

Here is one more story, about an English 
retriever named Grouse, that makes us smile 
at these bird dogs and their knowing ways. 
One day while hunting, the dog’s master 
lost his temper and scolded Grouse and 
threatened to punish him, although what had 
happened was not the dog’s fault. The man 
walked on but suddenly realized that Grouse 
was not following. He went on home, think¬ 
ing the dog had gone ahead. But Grouse 
was not there, nor did he ever come home 
again. He had been a fine dog and his mas¬ 
ter was sorry to lose him. 

Some weeks later, while shooting in a dis¬ 
trict about fifteen miles away, this man 
passed near the home of another hunter and 
was invited to come in. As the two men sat 
talking of hunting and dogs, the door was 
pushed open and Grouse walked in. Sur¬ 
prised to find his own dog at home in a 
strange place, the visitor called to Grouse, 


WHEN PRIDE IS HURT 


35 


but the dog would not notice him. He asked 
his host how this dog happened to be there, 
explaining that Grouse really belonged to 
him. He learned that his host, while out 
walking some weeks before, had met a dog 
who appeared to be wandering about alone. 
He spoke to the dog, and the animal, pleased 
at his kindness, followed him home. Since 
then Grouse had stayed with him, gone 
hunting with him, and had proved to be an 
excellent hunter. 

Grouse’s first master tried to coax his old 
dog to come home with him. Still angry at 
the man who had treated him unjustly, 
Grouse quietly refused to own him and in¬ 
sisted on staying with the new master whom 
he himself had chosen. 

Stories like these show us that intelligent, 
sensitive dogs are amazingly dependent 
upon human beings for their happiness. 


THE HOUNDS OF IBIZA 


TV7HAT were those dogs like that were 
pictured in the tombs and temples and 
palaces seven thousand years ago? If we 
wish to see with our own eyes we will have 
to travel to the Balearic Islands which lie 
east of Spain in the Mediterranean. On the 
Island of Ibiza in this group of islands, are 
the Ibiza hounds, the oldest breed of dog in 
existence. They have not changed in looks 
or habits for thousands of years. Their blood 
is a pure strain, because, unlike other dogs, 
they do not mate with any other than their 
own kind. 

These dogs are friendly and gentle, but 
fond of liberty and the open country. They 
are slim and very graceful and light on their 
feet. Their coats are of tan, or tan and 
white, and short-haired. Their noses are 


36 





I 






























































* 

















































































































































THE HOUNDS OF IBIZA 


pale in color, and their eyes light and bright 
and very large. They have large pointed 
ears which stand straight up from their nar¬ 
row heads, giving them an alert and some¬ 
what alarmed expression. 

The Ibiza hounds are splendid hunters. 
When at liberty, they are so fond of the 
chase that they will of their own accord 
gather in packs. In this way fifteen or twenty 
of them will start off together, chasing a 
hapless rabbit or other small quarry over 
great distances. They are so strong and 
swift and so full of grace, that they will leap 
high over rocks and clumps of bushes that 
are in their way, rather than go around as 
other dogs do. The trait of hunting by them¬ 
selves in packs is inherited from those early 
dogs who hunted thus before they were 
friends of man. 

When kept at home, these sprightly hounds 
are useful about the farm. They will tend 
the sheep and be of help in other ways. To 
break them of the habit Qf running away 


40 


HEROES ALL 


and hunting with other dogs, the people of 
the island strap a puppy’s forepaw to his 
collar for a short time. As hunting on three 
legs is difficult, the young dog gradually 
learns to stay at home. 

A great lover of dogs, the late Cecil Aldin, 
an Englishman, wrote about an Ibiza puppy 
he owned. Its name was Quixote. In his 
household was a dachshund, a bull terrier, 
and a Sealyham whose name was Susan. 
These short-legged dogs were puzzled and 
shocked by the lively puppy who came to live 
with them. They were much disturbed when 
he capered and pranced and leaped in his 
own fashion. 

Quixote made life especially hard for poor 
Susan. She never knew where he would be 
from one moment to the next. When the 
dogs were taken for their evening walk, 
Quixote would amuse himself by sailing 
through the air over their heads, back and 
forth, just beyond their reach. When Susan 
tried vainly to nip him, his delight knew no 


THE HOUNDS OF IBIZA 


41 


end. The more she was annoyed, the greater 
he enjoyed himself. As he grew older he 
learned better manners. 

Ibiza hounds are most interesting because 
they are found only in these islands, and be¬ 
cause they are the oldest type of dogs known 
to man. 


A HELPFUL LITTLE NEWSIE 


Some dogs seem to know as much as their mas¬ 
ters. A story appeared in one of our papers which 
told of a little Scottie who was accustomed to mak¬ 
ing the rounds with her master, a newscarrier. 

One day her master, who was somewhat elderly, 
became ill. It was thought that his son might de¬ 
liver the papers, but when the time came they could 
find no list of the customers. The Scottie went with 
the boy, however, stopping at the various places 
where the dog had gone each night with his master, 
and the papers were delivered without a single mis¬ 
take. 


ARTFUL DODGER 


D ODGER, like Peter Pan, lives in a park 
in the very heart of the city of London. 
Instead of living in a treetop or in the Never 
Never Land, as Peter Pan did, Dodger lives 
in a cabin on the shore of the lake in Re¬ 
gent’s Park. He belongs to Mr. Green, the 
swankeeper of the park, and the cabin is 
Mr. Green’s workroom. 

Every day hundreds of people visit the 
park where Dodger lives. They stroll along 
its quiet paths or sit beside the lake. Chil¬ 
dren come to feed the swans and ducks and 
geese that live on the islands of the lake and 
paddle about in its waters. There are forty 
swans, thirty geese, and almost a hundred 
and fifty ducks and drakes for Dodger and 
Mr. Green to care for. Dodger is a great 
help. 

43 


ARTFUL DODGER 


43 


The nesting places of the birds are hidden 
on the islands where it is peaceful and quiet. 
The birds would be perfectly safe if it were 
not for the rats that come to catch the baby 
birds or steal the eggs. Dodger knows all 
about rats. When he was four months old, 
Mr. Green caught two rats and gave them 
to him. He learned how to shake them just 
as terriers do. After that it was his daily 
task to go about the islands with the Swan 
Man and chase the rats away from all the 
nests. 

Mr. Green is very proud of Dodger, who 
is a white, wire-haired terrier, with a brown 
head and a black patch on his back. His 
bright, snappy eyes can spot a rat as quick 
as a flash. Dodger is a happy, friendly little 
fellow who likes people. His name comes 
from an English slang word meaning one 
who works around boats. It is also a nick¬ 
name for a person named Green. So Dodger 
is doubly named. When he first went to live 
with Mr. Green, the swankeeper used to take 


44 


HEROES ALL 


the dog home with him at night. Now, how¬ 
ever, when the boats are pulled up and made 
fast at the end of the day, Dodger goes into 
the little cabin and lies down. He prefers to 
stay in the quiet park rather than go through 
the city. As Mr. Green says, “He is a good 
little chap. ‘Night-night, Dodger/ I say, and 
he looks up at me as much as to say, ‘All 
right, hop it! And don’t be late in the morn¬ 
ing!’ ” 

So Dodger goes to bed in the cabin in the 
park. Bright and early the next day, often 
at six o’clock, he hears the click of the latch. 
Then he is ready for fun. Snatching up any¬ 
thing in his mouth, he runs to meet Mr. 
Green, knowing he is in for a jolly tussle 
and good play for a minute or two. After 
that comes breakfast, but the little wire-hair 
is so impatient to be out that he eats very 
little. He can scarcely wait until the boat is 
untied and shoved off. 

Dodger knows that the next business of 
the day is a tour around the islands to see 


ARTFUL DODGER 


45 


that the birds are doing well. He and Mr. 
Green row out to an island and go ashore. 
Mr. Green goes about lifting up bundles of 
green stuff, inspecting the nests and look¬ 
ing for rats. Dodger is always just a few 
steps ahead, his nose burrowing into the 
grasses the very moment his master touches 
them. Quick as a wink he is after any un¬ 
wary rat, seizing and shaking it until he is 
sure that it will never again bother a swan. 

One day when Dodger was chasing a rat 
on one of the islands, he ran so fast that he 
could not stop when he came to the shore. 
Straight ahead he raced and—splash! into 
the water he went. Getting a sudden bath 
did not stop him. In a second he was out of 
the water and after the rat. Falling in the 
lake is not a new experience for frisky 
Dodger, for several times he has tumbled off 
the boat and been fished out again. 

Although Dodger is kept very busy scar¬ 
ing rats away from the nests in order to 
save the eggs, he is not above sampling an 


46 


HEROES ALL 


egg once in a while himself. One day when 
Mr. Green caught Dodger with an egg in 
his mouth, he said sternly, “Drop it, Dodg¬ 
er!” Dodger let it go, cleverly dropping it 
so hard that it broke. After that, what could 
he do but eat it? Mr. Green decided that so 
willing a helper deserved some pay, so he let 
Dodger have the egg. 

The little terrier runs about so hard all 
day that sometimes his master thinks he 
must be tired. “Now, Dodger,” he says, 
“have a lay down. You must be tired!” 

Tired? Not Dodger! Obediently he lies 
down, but with both ears and one eye open. 
At the slightest sound he is up and off again 
to see what is going on. 

“There’s no mistake,” says Mr. Green, “he 
is a proper Dodger. I wouldn’t take five or 
ten pounds for him, much, as I might need it.” 

“Lucky Dodger,” say the people who come 
to the park. Running about in the open, rid¬ 
ing in the boats, and working busily—what 
more could a little dog ask? 





/- 




















BIG BOY 


A YOUNG St. Bernard is a prince among 
puppies. When born he is as large as 
a full-grown dog of smaller breed. He has 
great clumsy paws, a soft silky coat of brown 
or brown and white, gentle and innocent 
eyes, and the most charming of manners. 
St. Bernards are very fond of children, but 
though big and clumsy, the dogs are always 
good-natured. Such a puppy was Big Boy 
when he came from Switzerland to live in 
northern Ohio. 

Big Boy came of a breed that is one of the 
largest of all dogs and one of the finest, with 
a long history of noble deeds to its name. 
The dogs were first bred in Switzerland near 
a spot in the Alps known as Great St. Ber¬ 
nard Pass. 

In years gone by this was a very danger- 


49 


50 


HEROES ALL 


ous road for travelers to follow. Traveling 
by foot or horse, they were faced with the 
peril of being caught in one of the blinding 
storms that sweep swiftly over the moun¬ 
tains and leave the paths buried deep in 
snow. Overcome with weariness and cold, 
many of these wayfarers would have died 
if not rescued. 

Centuries ago a good monk by the name 
of Bernard built a shelter in this dangerous 
pass where travelers could stop and rest be¬ 
fore continuing their journey. Other monks, 
good men and kindly, carried on his work. 
Today, although eight hundred years have 
gone by, the Hospice of Great St. Bernard 
Pass is still open to travelers. The need for 
it is not so urgent as it once was, since good 
roads and the automobile have lessened the 
dangers of traveling over this part of the 
Alps. 

Long ago the monks had discovered that 
dogs could be of the greatest service in find¬ 
ing people lost in the snow. They trained 


BIG BOY 


51 


large strong dogs to go out in pairs during 
a storm to search for anyone in need of help. 
When such a person was found, the dogs 
barked loudly for help, and then lay down 
beside the traveler to warm him back to life 
if he were freezing. If he were able to walk, 
they led him to the Hospice. If not, one dog 
would return to the Hospice and bring help 
while the other dog stayed beside the help¬ 
less wayfarer. 

Because of his great work, the good monk 
Bernard was made a saint, and the dogs who 
helped in the work he began were called 
St. Bernards. Many hundreds of lives have 
been saved by them. They are bred now in 
other parts of the world, but the breed has 
never lost the courage and instinct for sav¬ 
ing life that has made the St. Bernard dogs 
famous. 

These were the dogs that were Big Boy’s 
ancestors. The tavern where he lived was on 
a corner of one of the busiest cross-roads in 
the state. Day and night cars sped past its 


52 


HEROES ALL 


doors. It was very different from the peace¬ 
ful mountains where Big Boy was born. 

While still very young, he reached a size 
that made him a giant even among St. Ber¬ 
nards. These dogs usually weigh from 160 
to 190 pounds; Big Boy weighed 250 pounds. 
Such a big dog needs a vast amount of food; 
he is always hungry. The people who owned 
Big Boy could not provide enough food for 
his huge appetite. When hunger gnawed at 
his stomach, he wandered away on foraging 
trips, stealing food wherever he could find 
it. From a lovable puppy, he became a dirty, 
neglected tramp dog. 

Then one day something happened to 
change his ways. 

The tavern was sold, and Big Boy with it. 
The new owners loved Big Boy. They were 
sorry to see him so neglected and they be¬ 
gan to care for him, feeding him well and 
bathing him and, best of all, giving him the 
affection that his big heart needed. Now his 
life was happier. He was glad that someone 


BIQ BOY 


53 


wanted and needed him. He stayed at home 
to look after his new people and guard their 
property. He became an excellent watchdog. 
Often his help was needed, and sometimes 
he gave it whether it was needed or not. 

One summer a gang of men was at work 
near the tavern. On a certain day a rough¬ 
looking man entered the place. He was rude 
and noisy and Big Boy did not approve of 
him. The huge St. Bernard kept his eyes 
glued on the unwelcome visitor, at the same 
time moving closer to his mistress. 

Suddenly the fellow reached out and 
touched her on the arm. That was enough 
for Big Boy. He leaped across the table and 
knocked the man down. He stood over him, 
though not harming him, until he was told 
to let the man up. After that the fellow was 
glad to get out and stay away. 

There were times when the savory odor of 
a frying hamburger tickled Big Boy’s nose 
so much that he would go to the counter and 
bark for a sandwich. 


54 


HEROES ALL 


“You can’t have one unless you pay for 
it,” they would tell him. 

Then he would lumber away to the kitchen 
where his box of biscuit was kept, take one 
out, and pay for his sandwich with the bis¬ 
cuit. 

Everyone who came to the tavern loved 
the big woolly dog and he was always 
friendly with people who behaved them¬ 
selves. He never forgot, however, that he 
had made himself guardian of the place. One 
morning he had a surprise. 

At night he stayed on guard in the tavern 
alone. Early one morning a member of the 
family came to open up. He had forgotten 
his keys, so he borrowed a ladder, set it 
against the building, and climbed to the sec¬ 
ond-story window. Just as he was entering 
the window, backwards, he felt himself 
firmly grasped by the seat of his trousers 
and held in a vise-like grip. 

“Wait a minute, Big Boy!” he called. At 
the familiar voice, Big Boy let go and backed 


BIG BOY 


55 


away so hastily that he almost skidded down 
the stairs. Probably he was never more sur¬ 
prised in his life, and perhaps he was also a 
little disappointed that he had not caught a 
burglar instead of one of the family. 

When Big Boy rescued the baby, however, 
he became almost famous. A customer had 
come to the tavern to make a purchase. She 
had wheeled her baby in his little go-cart 
and left him by the steps while she went in¬ 
side. 

Big Boy was lying on the ground nearby. 
Scarcely had the baby’s mother gone inside 
when the baby, a little fellow of a year and 
a half, began to climb out of his cart. Big 
Boy was watching him and now he began to 
bark. The people in the tavern heard him 
but no one came to see what had alarmed 
him. 

The baby succeeded in clambering out and, 
delighted at his freedom, toddled straight 
toward the road where car after car was 
flashing by. 


56 


HEROES ALL 


Big Boy waited no longer. He dashed out 
into the highway after the baby, snatched 
him up by his clothes, and carried him back 
to the sidewalk. There he deposited him 
gently and lay down beside him, one great 
paw on either side, guarding him so that he 
could not get away. 

The frightened baby cried loudly and soon 
his mother came running. She started to 
scold Big Boy, thinking he had frightened 
the baby, but a man who had seen the whole 
incident told how Big Boy had saved the 
child’s life. Then Big Boy received the praise 
he deserved and everyone was happy. 

For twelve years Big Boy lived a useful 
life, always the same gentle, kindly animal 
that he had been as a puppy. When he died 
he was carried to a little cemetery outside 
the city where dogs are laid to rest. He 
sleeps under tall beech trees, and on the 
shaft that stands over his grave are his pic¬ 
ture and a few words telling how he saved 
a baby’s life. 







♦ 




\ 


J 





























EYES FOR THE MASTER 


AS a puppy, Bruce must have been a bit 
tougher, a little rowdier, somewhat 
more self-willed, and perhaps more clever 
than the other puppies that whimpered and 
tumbled at their mother’s side. She wjis a 
German shepherd dog. Perhaps she was 
proud of her handsome son. If she could 
have had the fun of dreaming as human 
mothers do, she might even have wondered 
what he would be like when grown. Of 
course he would be brave, perhaps a hero; 
possibly one of those dogs who help to save 
men’s lives in wartime; or a messenger dog; 
or one that helps to fight forest fires. He 
might of course be just a faithful watch dog 
or a good family dog. How could one know? 
There were many fine and useful callings 
for such a dog as this bold, handsome puppy 


60 


HEROES ALL 


promised to be. His mother could not know 
that one day he would follow one of the 
finest callings of them all. 

By the time he was three years old, this 
shepherd puppy had grown into a big tawny 
dog, strong and good-looking. When I first 
saw him, Bruce was standing with his mas¬ 
ter on a street corner in a large mid-western 
city. They were waiting to cross the street. 
A brass-studded harness circled the dog’s 
body, and attached to it was a leather handle 
on which the man’s left hand rested. Bruce’s 
clear amber eyes were fixed alertly on the 
street. His ears seemed strained to catch 
every sound. Above them the traffic light 
glowed red. 

The dog was listening and watching, and 
the man was listening. The light shifted and 
traffic changed. The man’s hand tightened 
on the leather handle as he felt for the curb 
with his foot. 

“Forward,” he said. Bruce waited until 
his master had found the curb, then he 


EYES FOR THE MASTER 


61 


moved forward and the two of them crossed 
the street smoothly and safely. One would 
scarcely have noticed them, nor detected that 
the man could not see, so simply had it been 
done. Bruce was a Seeing Eye dog, one that 
has been taught to guide the blind. 

In 1939 there were four hundred Seeing 
Eye dogs in the United States who had been 
trained in the school at Morristown, New 
Jersey, where Bruce was educated. Although 
other dogs are also used for guiding the 
blind, the German shepherds are the most 
satisfactory. They are strong and healthy 
and can live well in any climate. Besides be¬ 
ing courageous, loyal, and trustworthy, they 
are eager to work and willing to serve. Long 
before any school was founded in this coun¬ 
try, dogs were being taught this work in 
Germany and Switzerland. 

The first Seeing Eye dog, Buddy, was 
brought to this country about ten years 
ago. She lived to be ten years old, and it 
was her sightless master who aided in 


62 


HEROES ALL 


founding the Seeing Eye school at Morris¬ 
town. On a thirty-acre farm, given by Mrs. 
Dorothy Eustis, from sixty to a hundred 
dogs are either in training or waiting to be 
trained all the time. The dogs are not bred 
at the school, but are either given or pur¬ 
chased. Not all of them turn out to be good 
at this work, and only those who pass their 
tests with high marks are kept. Elliott 
Humphrey is the chief trainer, and he has 
trained other men to teach the students with 
whom the dogs actually work. 

When Bruce was about a year and a half 
old, he was put in charge of a trainer. His 
first lesson was in obedience. After that he 
was taught the meaning of “Forward,” 
“Right,” “Left,” “Sit,” and other commands. 
He was taught to walk at the left side of 
his trainer with an even gait, neither too fast 
nor too slow. He learned to go around be¬ 
hind him when called, so as not to trip him, 
and then to stand or sit at his side. If an 
article was dropped, he was taught to call 



EYES FOR THE MASTER 


63 


his trainer’s attention to it by pressing his 
head against the man’s knee. All these were 
duties that he would have to perform later 
for his master. Day after day Bruce and his 
trainer worked together as the dog strug¬ 
gled to acquire the rules for guiding a sight¬ 
less person. As time went on the lessons 
grew more difficult. 

At the training farm the grounds are laid 
out in a way that would seem odd if one did 
not know the reason for it. Narrow walks 
turn suddenly at various angles; some of 
them are blocked by turnstiles; others lead 
abruptly into flights of steps. There are 
steps of all kinds, as well as ditches and ter¬ 
races and steep banks. These obstacles are 
similar to the situations that a dog and his 
master will later have to meet alone. Bruce 
had to learn to guide his trainer safely over 
these strange pathways. 

After his first training at the farm, Bruce 
was taken to the city to learn the ways of 
traffic. He was taught to sit whenever he 


64 


HEROES ALL 


came to a curb and to wait for the command 
“Forward.” Never, under any circumstances, 
was he to leave the curb until the command 
was given. It is the master who does the 
directing, the dog who does the guiding. The 
dog’s ears and eyes and nose all help him 
in his one big job of seeing for his master. 

Bruce learned to lead his trainer around 
ditches, puddles, holes, fences, pillars—any¬ 
thing that might lie in the path and cause 
harm. He learned to become aware of what 
was underfoot, straight ahead, and above. 
Low-hanging awnings, signs, scaffolding, 
and other objects which might strike a per¬ 
son must be avoided. All this Bruce had to 
learn. 

There were lessons in which he was taught 
how to guide a person to a street car or bus 
and, on boarding it, to find an empty seat 
for him. He learned about elevators and 
how to guide his owner so that he could find 
the elevator button. The more we see and 
hear of Seeing Eye dogs the more we mar- 


EYES FOR THE MASTER 


65 


vel at the patient, skillful training which 
they show. In addition to all this routine 
training, Bruce was taught to use his own 
sense when necessary, even to the point of 
disobeying his master’s orders, if a command 
was dangerous to follow. Only by so doing 
could he be a real protection. 

After four months of school, Bruce and 
the other dogs in his group were tested. Only 
those with the highest scores were kept. 
Bruce was one of them. He was now a See¬ 
ing Eye dog, ready for his new master who¬ 
ever that might be. 

Although his education was finished there 
still remained a month’s work for him at the 
farm, this time with his master instead of 
his trainer. This might prove to be the most 
difficult of all. Bruce’s master now had to 
learn to trust himself absolutely to the dog’s 
guidance in everything, and then to let the 
dog know that he trusted him. As for Bruce, 
he had to learn to trust and love a new 
master. 


66 


HEROES ALL 


Every few months a group of men and 
women arrive at Morristown, looking for¬ 
ward hopefully to what lies in store for them. 
They know that for each of them there is 
a dog who will, if possible, bring them a free¬ 
dom and comfort and companionship which 
they now lack. For the young chaps there 
are husky, sturdy male dogs. For the older 
men, for the women, and for any of the 
young people who prefer a more peaceable 
dog, there are the gentler, more sensitive 
females. The height and gait of the dog has 
to be considered also, for he must be able to 
walk comfortably beside his owner. Not every 
sightless person can use a dog. Some peo¬ 
ple are too old, some too young. Others are 
nervous or afraid, or not strong enough to 
take the dog out for the exercise it needs. 
Those in charge of the farm take great care 
in assigning the dogs to the owners with 
whom they are to spend the rest of their lives, 
so that both of them will be happy. 

Meantime Bruce learned to love his train- 


EYES FOR THE MASTER 


67 


er, and the first task of Bruce’s new master 
was to win for himself the affection Bruce 
had very evidently given to his trainer. This 
can best be done by praising a dog when he 
has done good work. The dogs are naturally 
pleased and will give their love and loyalty 
to a master who appreciates them. 

Those first days together were not easy. 
It was difficult for the man to trust his dog’s 
judgment. Sometimes he thought that he 
was right and the dog was wrong. But when 
things were cleared up it was always found 
that the dog had been right. 

When the month was over and it was time 
to leave the farm and go to his new home, 
Bruce and his master had learned to under¬ 
stand and hold each other in affectionate re¬ 
gard. And they had learned that working 
together was not so difficult as it had seemed 
in those first days. 

In his new home Bruce soon had an oppor¬ 
tunity to show his good sense and excellent 
training. The two were walking along a 


68 


HEROES ALL 


noisy street, and suddenly Bruce stopped. 
His master felt for a curbing but found none, 
nor could he find any other reason for stop¬ 
ping, although he put his hand up to see if 
there was an overhead obstacle. Bruce did 
not move. His master listened, and then in 
a lull in traffic he heard voices coming from 
below. He realized then that they were 
standing on the edge of a hole or trench. 

Bruce’s master turned and gave the com¬ 
mand to take a different direction. The dog 
led him into the street, around a pile of loose 
dirt, and back to the curb. They stood for 
a moment while the man took his bearings. 
Suddenly he felt his arm clutched by an un¬ 
known hand, and a voice cried, “Don’t step 
backward! There’s an eight-foot trench just 
behind you!” 

“I know it,” laughed Bruce’s master, “my 
dog has just taken me around it.” 

Bruce guides his master to his office in a 
downtown building. One day they were wait¬ 
ing on a corner to cross the street, There 


MMb 









































































































































































* 


. 





























































* ' 































EYES FOR THE MASTER 


71 


seemed to be no traffic, and Bruce heard the 
command “Forward.” Instead, he leaped 
back suddenly, pulling his master away from 
the curb. At the same moment there was a 
rumble of wheels as a truck swung around 
the corner and something hanging from the 
truck brushed heavily against the man’s 
shoulder. What it was that had touched him 
he could not tell, but had he been standing 
nearer it might have injured him severely. 
Bruce’s alertness had prevented that. 

A Seeing Eye dog does not spend all his 
time on duty. There are times when he can 
chase a ball or romp about like other dogs, 
though he knows he must never go far from 
his master’s side. Even in their play these 
dogs do not forget their training. Only once 
did Bruce make the mistake of dashing into 
the street after his ball. Fortunately for him 
there was no car coming, but he was pun¬ 
ished for his carelessness nevertheless. 
Shortly after that his master was playing 
ball with him, and someone called to him that 


72 


HEROES ALL 


the ball had rolled well into the street. 

“Where is Bruce?” he asked. 

When he was told that Bruce was stand¬ 
ing on the curb, making no move toward get¬ 
ting the ball though watching it with evi¬ 
dent longing, he knew that Bruce could be 
trusted. 

Another Seeing Eye dog, Trixie, lives in 
the same midwestern city as Bruce. She is 
a slimmer, lighter shepherd dog than Bruce. 
She also is a naturally friendly soul. And she 
knows, like Bruce, that she must not be too 
sociable but save all her attention for her 
master. She leads him through traffic, on 
cars and busses, to all parts of the city. If 
he tells her to take him to the street car, she 
guides him to the nearest crossing or zone. 
She finds certain stores for him and knows 
what he means by “the second door from 
here.” The two go for long walks, and her 
master has figured that they have gone about 
two thousand miles in all. They sometimes 
walk the nine miles that lie between their 


EYES FOR THE MASTER 


73 


home and the center of town. Now and then 
Trixie takes him one way and brings him 
home by another route that he does not 
know. “But she always gets me home,” her 
master declares. Perhaps Trixie enjoys try¬ 
ing new routes. 

Trixie’s master has a candy and news¬ 
paper booth in one of the large city hospitals. 
When the alarm clock rings in the morning, 
Trixie’s day begins. If her master does not 
obey that alarm at once, she lets him know 
that it is time to get up. Sometimes he lec¬ 
tures in the city.schools and churches, talk¬ 
ing to young people on sight saving. Trixie 
sits beside him on the platform until after 
the lecture, when she demonstrates some of 
the duties of a Seeing Eye dog. One day she 
caused some laughter by taking a long drink 
from a glass of water that had been brought 
to her master and set on the chair beside 
him. It was not in the line of duty but it 
greatly amused her audience. 

Late one night Trixie was leading her 


74 


HEROES ALL 


master home and they crossed the street to 
a walk that ran beside a long vacant lot. 
Suddenly Trixie stopped and growled, then 
again more loudly. There were sounds of 
hurrying footsteps. Someone of whom she 
did not approve had taken to his heels. 

Not every dog that receives training for 
Seeing Eye work is fitted for it. Not all dogs 
can resist the temptation of being led away 
by the pleasant and interesting sights and 
sounds and smells that are the delight of 
more carefree dogs. There can be no chasing 
after cats or friendly powwows on the street 
corner when they are on duty. There is a 
story about a Seeing Eye dog in Switzerland 
who could not pass a pigeon without giving 
chase. As likely as not her unlucky master 
would start for town and end up in a merry 
chase across field and meadow as his dog 
dashed after a flock of pigeons. So she 
proved useless to him. 

Now and then it is found that a dog and 
his new master cannot agree. Usually this 


EYES FOR THE MASTER 


75 


is because the man has not handled the dog 
properly and has earned its distrust and dis¬ 
like. The dog is then given to another per¬ 
son. At the time Trixie and her master were 
training they went out for a walk one day 
with another man and his dog. The other 
dog had no affection for her new owner and 
seemed bent on mischief. She led him 
through puddles and let him bump into hy¬ 
drants and posts and awnings, though Trixie 
and her master followed the same route with¬ 
out mishap. However, she became a faithful 
guide for another man to whom she was 
given. 

A dog can work only for a master who 
trusts and loves him. If his owner fears or 
distrusts him, the dog is quick to sense that 
feeling and he becomes unsure of himself. 
Man and dog must work together like one 
creature instead of two. Sightless persons 
often have to ask that other people do not 
fondle or pet their dogs, or even talk to them 
or try to help them, for it distracts the dog’s 


76 


HEROES ALL 


attention and breaks the harmony that exists 
between dog and master. 

There are other schools now where dogs 
of various breeds are being taught to guide 
the blind. With ten thousand sightless peo¬ 
ple in this country, there is more and more 
need for good dogs like Bruce and Trixie, 
dogs that are, by their training and native 
intelligence, eyes for the master. 


A FRIENDLY ENEMY 

During the Revolution, in the year 1777, Wash¬ 
ington’s army was encamped at a spot known as 
Pennibecker’s Mill. On day a beautiful hunting dog 
came into camp. He was very friendly and very 
hungry. 

The soldiers looked at his collar to see whose dog 
he was, and great was their astonishment to see the 
name of General Howe, the British commander. The 
dog was given a good meal and sent back to Howe’s 
camp, which was not far away, with a military 
escort under a flag of truce. 


SHEPHERD DOGS IN PEACE AND WAR 


G RENZ was a German shepherd dog who 
lived some years ago. Few dogs excel 
a good sheep dog in courage and wisdom- 
traits which they have learned through long 
centuries of herding flocks and cattle and 
watching their masters’ homes and children. 

In that part of Europe where Grenz lived, 
every foot of ground that can be spared is 
used for raising crops for food. This leaves 
very little space for pasture land, and the 
sheep have to graze in the narrow stretches 
left between fields and vineyards, closely 
watched by the shepherd and his dog to see 
that they do not stray. If a sheep takes a 
bite from the forbidden crops in an adjoin¬ 
ing field his master must pay a fine to the 
owner of that field. 

A dog must be trained for almost two 

77 


78 


HEROES ALL 


years before he is ready for this sort of 
skilled herding, but when he has finished his 
schooling, he is almost as wise as the shep¬ 
herd—sometimes wiser. 

Grenz had always worked with one shep¬ 
herd. One day the man was called away to 
war and a strange shepherd came to take 
his place. The new man must have been a 
great puzzle to Grenz. He would take a nip 
from a jug, then lie down under a tree and 
go to sleep, leaving Grenz to tend the flock. 

One day the shepherd slept far into the 
afternoon. The sun dropped lower and lower, 
and the sheep began to turn homeward of 
their own accord, while Grenz took his place 
beside them. 

Their way led across a railroad crossing. 
Just as the flock approached the tracks, a 
shrill whistle sounded, warning the country¬ 
side of the approaching fast express. As the 
gateman dropped the barrier he was horri¬ 
fied to see the flock of sheep advancing 
steadily toward the crossing without a shep- 


SHEPHERD DOGS IN PEACE AND WAR 79 

herd in charge. He knew how witless sheep 
are, and that when alarmed they sometimes 
rush wildly into the very danger that threat¬ 
ens them. He felt sure that nothing could 
save the flock from being scattered and cut 
to pieces by the onrushing express. The gate- 
man had forgotten about Grenz. Just as the 
sheep reached the railroad warning post, 
Grenz ran ahead and stopped them. They 
stood quietly obedient, while the train roared 
over the crossing and disappeared into the 
distance. When it had passed, Grenz started 
them on their way again and took the flock 
safely home. 

Dogs like Grenz are trained to serve men 
in war as well as peace. The dogs which 
serve in the army are divided into three 
classes: despatch or communication dogs, 
patrol duty dogs, and ambulance or Red 
Cross dogs. Regular officers are assigned to 
their care and training. Ten weeks of hard 
training are required to prepare a despatch 
or ambulance dog for his duties. Dogs for 


80 


HEROES ALL 


patrol or guarding duty require less train¬ 
ing. Such dogs are assigned to aid in sentry 
duty at important positions on the borders, 
at ammunition stations, or where army sup¬ 
plies are kept. 

When telephone lines are cut and other 
means of communication between front and 
rear lines have been destroyed, the despatch 
dogs carry messages. Often they must cross 
the battlefields under fire. They are val¬ 
uable for this service because they move 
more swiftly and find their way more di¬ 
rectly than a human runner. Although they 
are a smaller target for gunfire, still they 
are often wounded. Many stories are told of 
heroic dogs who, even though crippled, went 
on through until their messages were deliv¬ 
ered. Dogs who recover from their wounds 
sometimes go back into the same service, 
apparently as fearless as before. 

Despatch dogs are also used for other pur¬ 
poses. They carry homing pigeons to the 
front lines, where the birds are released with 









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/ 













































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*a 

































SHEPHERD DOGS IN PEACE AND WAR 83 

messages. These dogs also assist in laying 
telephone cables under fire, and they carry 
ammunition forward. When there is nothing 
else to do, the dogs amuse themselves by 
catching rats in the trenches. Dog rat¬ 
catchers are also kept by the armies for this 
purpose. 

The ambulance or Red Cross dogs are of 
the greatest value in the armies. They work 
mostly at night, for it is after a battle, when 
the wounded must be found, that they are 
most needed. The injured men are often hid¬ 
den in shell holes, in underbrush, or under 
other cover where they have crawled for pro¬ 
tection. The dogs can find these hideouts 
more quickly than can the men of the am¬ 
bulance corps. A dog can carry on in dark¬ 
ness where men need a light, aided by his 
keen sense of smell. He will work his way 
through wire entanglements, over shell- 
blasted ground, through underbrush, 
marshes and even running water, in his 
search. 


84 


HEROES ALL 


The stretcher-bearers follow the dogs. 
Whenever a dog discovers a wounded man 
he either stands on the spot and barks for 
aid, or he runs back and guides the men to 
the place. Many thousands of men owe 
their lives to the Red Cross dogs of the 
world’s armies. 


A SMART WATCHDOG 

Even the smallest article belonging to his master 
will be guarded faithfully by a dog that has been 
trained to watch. Or sometimes a dog loves his mas¬ 
ter so much that he will of his own accord learn to 
watch his property. A little dog named Skipper 
went walking with her master who was a very for¬ 
getful man. The man had been walking some dis¬ 
tance when he missed his little follower. He re¬ 
turned to look for her and a long way back found 
Skipper lying in the path, her paws around her 
master’s cap. The man had dropped it without 
knowing it, and Skipper had remained behind to 
guard it. 


ROGUE DOGS AND HONEST DOGS 


DOG’S eager obedience to his master 



can be used in harmful as well as help¬ 
ful ways. His master’s word is the only law 
that a dog knows, and he will do his own¬ 
er’s bidding willingly, be it good or bad. 
Thus we have stories of dogs who have been 
used by lawbreakers — thieves, poachers, 
burglars, and smugglers —to help them in 
their work. 

A burglar will sometimes use a dog to 
carry stolen goods to an accomplice who 
waits nearby. Dogs are trained by purse 
snatchers to seize purses in crowded streets 
and carry them to their masters. Using dogs 
for such work has a double advantage for 
the thief: he does not have the stolen goods 
upon his person, and his dog cannot talk. 

In France for many years the government 


85 


HEROES ALL 


was troubled with smugglers who carried on 
their work with the help of dogs. Smugglers 
are men who carry goods from one country 
to another without paying the duty charge 
that is required by law. The smugglers had 
trained their dogs to run along certain routes 
that crossed the border, perhaps between 
France and Belgium, or Switzerland or 
Spain. The goods most commonly carried 
were fine laces, silks, and tobacco. They were 
wrapped closely around the dog’s body. 

Each dog was equipped with chest pads 
and a spiked collar to protect him against 
other dogs. He ran only at night and under 
cover of darkness, sometimes making sev¬ 
eral trips back and forth, circling around vil¬ 
lages in order to avoid people and other dogs. 
His master treated him kindly and the dog 
worked willingly, knowing that at the end 
of his night’s work he would have a warm 
bed and a good meal. Only the swiftest, 
most courageous, and cleverest dogs were 
trained for this unlawful work. 


ROGUE DOGS AND HONEST DOGS 87 

So great were the losses to business firms 
caused by these smugglers that the French 
began to “fight fire with fire” by training 
dogs to patrol the borders to catch them. 
Dogs are used by many branches of govern¬ 
ment service in foreign lands, so this was 
not an unusual undertaking. As it was 
known that there were certain places where 
the smuggler dogs crossed the borders, an 
officer and a patrol dog were stationed at 
each of these spots. 

A dog’s keen sense of smell enables him 
to catch a scent long before his master can 
suspect that anything is approaching. The 
patrol dogs were taught to give warning in 
a curious manner. Since they must not bark 
or growl, they were trained to warn the offi¬ 
cers by means of a low rumble which could 
be felt, rather than heard, when the master 
placed his hand gently on the dog’s side. 

When a smuggler dog approached the 
border the patrol dog either attacked or gave 
chase, depending upon whether the intruder 


88 


HEROES ALL 


wished to circle around or fight it out. He 
might run the smuggler dog until the latter 
was exhausted, and was even known to drive 
him to official headquarters. 

These smuggler dogs were valuable ani¬ 
mals because of their extreme cleverness and 
courage. Sometimes, after they were cap¬ 
tured, they were kept and re-trained for 
police duty, thus making a good ending to a 
bad beginning. 

It is quite possible to change a rogue dog 
to an honest dog, as the story of Drack of 
St. Germain will show. Drack was a pointer 
and very beautiful, judging by his portrait 
which is well known. He was white with 
orange spots, and it was evident that he came 
of good blood. 

When a tiny pup he was stolen, and came 
into the possession of a lawbreaker who 
made his living by poaching in the forest of 
St. Germain, near Paris, where hunting is 
forbidden by law. His owner trained Drack 
to work for him, Amid the thickets and be- 























































































* 





















































- 
















t. 


ROGUE DOGS AND HONEST DOGS SI 

neath the ancient trees where the kings of 
France had once chased the red deer, Drack 
caught small game, rabbits, and pheasants 
and carried them to his master. 

It is an unheard-of thing for a proper 
hunting dog to catch the game he stalks, 
but Drack knew none of the rules of hunt¬ 
ing. He merely did as he was told, and his 
master made an easy living by Drack’s skill, 
selling the game to the Paris markets. 

Drack was expert not only at catching 
game, but in avoiding the officers of the law 
who patrolled the forest for poachers. At 
the sound of a footstep he would hide and 
freeze, remaining motionless as long as 
there was danger of being caught. 

At this time there was a young American 
artist living in Paris whose portraits of hunt¬ 
ing dogs, pointers, setters, and cocker span¬ 
iels were becoming famous. One day, while 
strolling through the forest of St. Germain, 
he lay down to rest. Suddenly a very beau¬ 
tiful pointer appeared and, quite unaware 


heroes all 


&2 

of the man’s presence, began to stalk a bird. 
It was Drack himself. The dog worked with 
such grace and skill that the young artist 
was filled with admiration and longed to own 
him. 

When Drack went away with his catch, 
the artist started after him, hoping to find 
the dog’s master. By a lucky chance he did 
meet him. Without letting the poacher know 
that he had seen Drack before, he talked to 
him about the dog and finally offered him 
a good sum for the pointer. Drack’s master 
was quite willing to sell, since the sum he 
was offered was more than he could make 
in a long time at poaching. So Drack left 
the forest with a new master. 

A strange new life then began for the dog. 
There were many lessons to be learned, and 
many old ones to be forgotten. His new 
master, who was a good hunter as well as 
an artist, taught Drack the rules of proper 
hunting. Drack must have been not a little 
puzzled to learn that he must not catch the 
























































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ROGUE DOGS AND HONEST DOGS 95 

game but merely point it out for his master. 
He learned rapidly however, for his former 
master had taught him unquestioning obedi¬ 
ence, and in a short time he was very skill¬ 
ful. When Drack was entered in a dog show 
some months later, he was awarded the first 
prize and after that he captured prizes wher¬ 
ever he was shown. 

Drack not only hunted with the young 
artist, whose name was Percival Rousseau, 
but he learned to pose for him. Among his 
many paintings of hunting dogs, those of 
Drack of St. Germain are unusually fine, 
especially that one which shows him point¬ 
ing, nose and tail extended, forepaw raised, 
every muscle a-quiver but controlled as he 
stands in a grassy dell. It is said that we 
cannot teach an old dog new tricks, but when 
we read of Drack we know that it has been 
done. 


THE FAITHFUL HOUND OF AUBERY 


L ONG, long ago, men hunted from neces- 
* sity. Chasing the deer, the wild boar, 
and even the harmless hare was necessary 
if people were to have food to keep them 
from starving through the winter. Whether 
a household lived well or went hungry de¬ 
pended largely upon the skill of its hunters. 
Men also hunted the savage beasts of forest 
and plain—bears and wolves and other wild 
animals—to protect their homes from dan¬ 
gerous attacks by them. 

Although man hunted at first for food, 
he soon discovered that the pursuit of game 
was exciting and thrilling in itself. Then he 
began to hunt for sport as well as to secure 
food. 

He found that dogs, because of their keen 
sense of smell and their obedience and cour- 


96 


THE FAITHFUL HOUND OF AUBERY 


97 


age, were a useful aid in tracking and run¬ 
ning down game. The dogs of the hound 
family proved to be better at hunting than 
any other breed of dog. 

During the Middle Ages, the greyhounds, 
which included the Irish wolfhounds, the 
Scotch deerhounds, and the powerful stag- 
hounds, were the favored companions of 
kings and nobles. A person of low degree 
was not allowed to keep a greyhound. These 
dogs, which were of immense size, were 
trained to go into battle beside their mas¬ 
ters. They were allowed to roam at will 
through castle and manor house, sleeping 
near the master’s couch and hanging about 
him in the dining hall to snatch eagerly the 
choice morsels and juicy bones that were 
flung to them. They even ambled solemnly 
into the lofty cathedrals when their master 
attended Mass. When a nobleman died, the 
sculptured form of his hound was often 
carved in stone upon his tomb. 

Many years ago, in the year 1406, the 


98 


HEROES ALL 


Duke of York wrote one of the first books 
about dogs, in which he says, “A hound hath 
great strength and goodness. A hound is a 
wise beast and a kind one. A hound has 
great memory and sympathy . . . and is of 
good obedience for he will learn as a man 
all that a man will teach him. Hounds are 
hardy (brave) for they will keep their mas¬ 
ters’ goods and sooner die than anything be 
lost in keeping. And to affirm the nobleness 
of hounds, I shall tell you the tale of the 
greyhound belonging to Aubery.” 

This is the story he tells, put into modern 
language. It is a tale of the days when 
knights in armor fought in tournaments for 
the favor of fair ladies; of the days when 
Chivalry was at its height. 

In the reign of Charles the Fifth, who was 
called Charles the Wise, there was a young 
squire at his court named Aubery. He owned 
a greyhound called Dragon, whom he loved 
greatly. The hound was devoted to his mas¬ 
ter. At the court there was also a knight 


THE FAITHFUL HOUND OF AUBERY 99 

known as Macaire, or Makarie. He was 
jealous of Aubery’s youth and handsome 
looks and also of the favor shown him by 
the ladies. Macaire hated Aubery so much 
that he plotted against his life. One day as 
Aubery was making his way home alone 
through the forest of Blondis, near Paris, 
he was killed by treachery and his body was 
left in the woods. 

As soon as Dragon missed his master, he 
set out to find him. He traced him to the 
forest and shortly afterward discovered his 
slain body. Stricken with grief, the dog 
clawed earth and leaves about his master’s 
body and then lay down beside him, not leav¬ 
ing him for several days. After awhile the 
hound became so famished that he left the 
body and returned to court, where he 
snatched a piece of meat and hurried off with 
it. For four days in succession Dragon ap¬ 
peared at the castle, each time taking food 
and then quickly disappearing. One day as 
he entered the dining hall he encountered 


100 


HEROES ALL 


the knight Macaire. With a savage growl 
Dragon attacked the knight and would have 
killed him if those about had not prevented 
it. 

“To whom does this hound belong, and 
why does he come here on such an errand?” 
asked the king. 

His courtiers told him that the hound was 
Aubery’s but that no one knew what had be¬ 
come of the young squire. The king com¬ 
manded that the hound should be followed, 
and Dragon led them to the very spot in the 
forest of Blondis where lay the body of his 
young master. 

With sadness and wonder, they watched 
the faithful hound offer the meat to the mas¬ 
ter he loved, who, of course, lay silent and 
still. They tried in every way to coax Dragon 
away, but he refused. Only by taking hold 
of his collar could they force him to come 
with them. 

The king then ordered that Macaire should 
offer some of the meat to the hound. When 


THE FAITHFUL HOUND OF AUBERY 


101 


he did so, Dragon attacked him so savagely 
that the young knight was filled with fear. 
The king now felt certain that Macaire had 
more knowledge than anyone else about 
Aubery’s death. He proclaimed that Macaire 
and the great hound should be given trial 
by battle. 

It was the custom of those times to prove 
a person’s guilt or innocence by having him 
fight with the one who had accused him. If 
he were victorious in this hand-to-hand bat¬ 
tle, he was believed to be innocent. Macaire 
laughed scornfully at the thought of doing 
battle with a hound, but the king had given 
command. 

Before the combat it was also the custom 
for each contestant to swear on the Holy 
Sacrament that he was fighting for a just 
cause. Aubery’s kinsmen offered to take 
oath for the squire’s hound. Macaire then 
took his oath, and the strange pair, man and 
dog, were led away to a place in Paris known 
as Our Lady’s Isle. Thousands of people had 


102 


HEROES ALL 


gathered there to see the unusual battle. 

The knight was armed with a two-handed 
staff. As soon as the contest began, Dragon 
leaped at him fiercely, fighting with all his 
terrible strength. It was quickly seen that 
the greyhound had the advantage and that 
the knight could ill defend himself. When 
it appeared that Macaire would be killed, the 
king ordered the battle stopped and declared 
Dragon the victor. 

Macaire was then ordered to tell the truth. 
He confessed that he had killed Aubery by 
treachery and without cause. The king com¬ 
manded that the knight should forfeit his 
life for his wicked deed. 

Thus was justice brought about by the de¬ 
votion of Aubery’s faithful greyhound. The 
story of Aubery and Dragon is pictured in 
carvings on the chimney piece of the great 
hall of the Chateau of Montargis, where the 
old tale has often been told. 












\ 


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UNSUNG HEROES 
























TIP, THE STORY OF A DOG AND A FIRE 


A DOG’S keen sense of smell will detect 
the odor of smoke long before human 
beings are aware that anything is wrong. 
We often hear stories of intelligent dogs 
who, by barking an alarm, have saved prop¬ 
erty and lives from destruction by fire; dogs 
have even been known to enter burning 
buildings to rescue those they love. 

Tip’s story is quite different from other 
stories of dogs and fires, and we think it is 
one of the finest we have ever heard. 

Tip is a handsome, friendly English setter; 
He is all black except for three white feet 
and the white tip on the end of his tail, which 
gives him his name. A short while before 
this story begins he had the misfortune to 
have his hip broken when he was struck by 
a car. His master made him a good bed in 

105 


106 


HEROES ALL 


a box under the basement stairs and filled 
it with straw to make it more comfortable. 
A furnace pipe which ran nearby gave out 
a pleasant warmth on winter nights. 

One blustery night Tip lay in his bed, quite 
alone in the house. Before the family had 
gone out, his master had shoveled coal into 
the furnace and then opened the draft. The 
high wind kept the fire burning fiercely and 
sent sparks flying past the open door of the 
draft. A piece of cloth, hanging in the base¬ 
ment not far from Tip’s bed, caught fire 
from a flying spark. It must have smoldered 
and then blazed brightly, dropping down 
into Tip’s straw-filled box. 

Some time must have passed before the 
click of the key in the lock told Tip that his 
people were returning. When they opened 
the door he paid no attention to them but 
hobbled past them on his three good legs and 
out into the night. 

This seemed queer, for Tip was always 
happy to see them return. 


TIP, THE STORY OP A DOG AND A FIRE 10? 

“What’s wrong?” said his master, and at 
the same moment the master’s wife cried 
out, “I smell smoke!” 

They hurried to the basement. A cloud of 
smoke hung in the air, and in the middle of 
the floor was a piece of charred cloth. It was 
torn into shreds as though Tip had clawed 
and chewed it. The straw in Tip’s box was 
partly burned and scattered about on the 
floor. 

What had happened was now very clear to 
them. The cloth which had been hanging 
close to the open draft had caught on fire 
from a spark and had dropped into Tip’s 
straw-filled bed, thus setting fire to the 
straw. How fiercely Tip must have worked 
to put out those flames, crippled though he 
was! He had trampled and scattered the 
burning straw, he had dragged the blazing 
cloth out to the center of the basement floor, 
and he had not left until he had put out the 
last glowing spark. 

Tip’s grateful master and mistress went 


108 


HEROES ALL 


to the door and called to him. At last the 
dog hobbled in, still frightened and nervous. 
They fondled him and told him he was a 
brave, brave dog. Then they discovered that 
his whiskers and eyebrows were singed, that 
the fur on his chest was burned, and that his 
paws were scorched and smoky. Poor Tip! 
He had been a one-dog fire department, and 
a very courageous one. All by himself he 
had put out a fire that would have spread 
from his box to the wooden stairway just 
above, and from there to the rest of the 
house. 

It is no wonder that Tip’s master thinks 
he is one of the finest dogs in the world. 



WHEN TOOTSIE PLAYED FIREMAN 


T OOTSIE is a small fox terrier, white 
with tan markings. She is an unusual 
little creature in several ways. For one thing, 
she has a bullet which she has been carrying 
about inside her for eight years. And she 
also has two medals, which were awarded 
her for bravery. 

One night, when she was two years old, 
Tootsie lay sleeping in her kennel, which is 
close to the house where her family lives. 
At her side snuggled her puppy, a little fel¬ 
low a few weeks old. Everything was warm 
and comfortable and very, very peaceful, 
and they slept without thought of danger. 

It was-still dark, although almost three- 
thirty in the morning, when Tootsie was 
aroused by the sound of stealthy footsteps 
creeping up the driveway toward her mas- 
109 


110 


HEROES ALL 


ter’s car. There may have been a low whis¬ 
per of strange voices and perhaps the clink 
of metal around the car. Tootsie’s small head 
went up, and her tiny ears twitched forward. 
The sounds that came drifting in to her told 
her that something was wrong. 

Suddenly she dashed out of the kennel in 
a burst of excited barking. How astonished 
the puppy must have been to be awakened so 
rudely and left alone in the dark. He was 
no more surprised, though, than the two 
men who stood in the driveway working over 
the car. They were thieves who had come to 
steal parts of the car and carry them away. 

Tootsie flew at the intruders, barking and 
snapping, and the men took to their heels in 
a hurry. As they ran, one of them turned 
and fired two shots at the little terrier. 
Aroused by the noise, her family came hur¬ 
rying just in time to see the men running 
down the road. 

The family looked about for Tootsie, who 
usually ran to meet them, but Tootsie lay 


WHEN TOOTSIE PLAYED FIREMAN 


111 


near the driveway with two bullet wounds in 
her small side. Picking 1 her up very gently, 
Tootsie’s master rushed her to a large hospi¬ 
tal, where the doctor took out one of the bul¬ 
lets. He could not remove the other, so to 
this day Tootsie carries it inside her and 
seems none the worse for it. 

Tootsie stayed in the hospital a month, and 
during this time her puppy had to learn to 
drink from a bottle, since his mother could 
not nurse him. After awhile she was well 
enough to go home to the little kennel beside 
the house. 

Tootsie’s courage in defending her mas¬ 
ter’s property aroused a great deal of inter¬ 
est, and two different societies awarded her 
medals “For bravery and faithfulness.” It 
all happened a long time ago, and Tootsie 
has probably forgotten it, but her master 
and mistress will never forget the fearless¬ 
ness of this plucky little fox terrier. 


HOW JERRY SAVED HIS MASTER 


J ERRY was part spaniel, which made him 
loving, warm-hearted, and faithful, and 
part Airedale, which made him strong, alert, 
and courageous. He was an excellent watch¬ 
dog. 

Before the baby came, no one knew just 
how Jerry would feel, for he had been a 
spoiled and petted darling. For three years 
he had received all the attention. Would 
Jerry love the new baby or would he be jeal¬ 
ous? None of the family wanted to part 
with Jerry, so they were hoping for the best. 

When the baby came home from the hos¬ 
pital, they held him down, all snuggled in 
his blankets, for Jerry to see. The dog walked 
around the precious bundle, sniffed curiously 
at it, and peered into the tiny red face. The 
baby made a soft whimpering sound and 


112 


HOW JERRY SAVED HIS MASTER 113 

Jerry looked surprised, then wagged his tail. 
It was going to be all right. Jerry liked 
Billy. 

From the very first he was interested in 
all that concerned the baby. But sometimes, 
if he thought the newcomer was receiving 
too much attention, he would lay his head 
wistfully on someone’s knee as though to 
say, “I’m here, too, you know.” A word and 
a pat would send him away satisfied and 
happy. 

As Billy grew older and playthings were 
showered on him, Jerry had to learn that 
they were not his to play with. It was such 
a temptation to run away with the baby’s 
ball or to chew to splinters the baby’s wooden 
blocks. Jerry saw no difference between 
Billy’s toys and his own array of sticks and 
balls and bones. He learned in time, how¬ 
ever, and after awhile never made the mis¬ 
take of touching the wrong playthings. 

The baby was often wheeled on the porch 
for an airing, and Jerry made himself 


114 


HEBOES ALL 


Guardian of the Carriage. Billy’s mother 
knew that he was quite safe, for Jerry never 
stirred from the baby’s side. 

Before long the baby grew old enough to 
be put in a play pen. Jerry was very much 
interested in the strange contrivance. He 
walked all about it, inspecting it closely, and 
finally lay down and poked his nose in be¬ 
tween the bars as far as it would go. This 
was his f avorite position whenever Billy was 
in the pen. 

The months passed and the baby learned 
to walk. Jerry walked beside him as he took 
his first unsteady steps. He stood patiently 
as the baby clutched at his fur for support 
and clung to him. 

After awhile a new baby came to the home 
—Billy’s little brother. Then Jerry was a 
greater help than ever, as he followed Billy 
around and looked after him when the chil¬ 
dren’s mother was busy with the new baby. 

In front of Billy’s house a broad lawn 
slopes down to the sandy shore of Lake Erie. 


HOW JERRY SAVED HIS MASTER 115 

It is a beautiful and exciting place for chil¬ 
dren to play, but it can also be a very dan¬ 
gerous place. Billy had often been told that 
he must not go down to the lake, but when 
one is only three years old, one sometimes 
forgets. 

During the winter the lake freezes for 
some distance from the shore. Early one 
spring, when the warm weather had begun 
to melt the ice, a bright sun and a gentle 
breeze tempted Billy down to the beach. He 
had forgotten that he must not go there 
alone. 

Jerry followed him down the slope. Billy 
walked out on the ice, just a little way, cau¬ 
tiously; then a little farther. Trying to walk 
on the slippery ice was great fun. Jerry 
kept right beside him all the time. 

Suddenly there was a warning crack. Then 
with a crunch, the ice broke beneath Billy’s 
feet and plunged him into the freezing wa¬ 
ter. As he went down his small fingers 
clutched at the ragged edges of the ice and 


116 


HEROES ALL 


clung there. It was all he could do to hold 
himself up. 

Jerry raced back and forth in a frenzy. 
What could he do? There seemed to be only 
one thing to do, and he did it. He raced up 
the slope, barking loudly, until he found 
some boys playing in a yard. Then, still bark¬ 
ing, he rushed back down the slope to Billy. 
The boys heard his excited noise and fol¬ 
lowed to see what was wrong. 

When they saw Billy clinging to the edge 
of the ice, his small body in the water, they 
rushed at once to help him. One of the boys 
crawled out on the treacherous ice, grasped 
Billy’s hands, and drew him slowly out of 
the water. 

As soon as Jerry saw that his little master 
was safe on land again, he was as happy as 
a dog can be. Everyone agreed that Jerry 
had saved Billy’s life by bringing help to him 
at once. He was hailed as a hero and the 
papers printed his picture. 

Jerry had always been a favorite with the 


HOW JERRY SAVED HIS MASTER 


117 



neighbors, but from this time on, for the 
rest of his life, he was the most dearly loved 
dog in that circle of homes on the lake. 



BROWNIE PAYS A DEBT 


A PUPPY lay beside the road one winter 
day. He had come a long way, and he 
did not know where he was going. Footsore, 
weary, and lost, he had dropped down to rest. 
The heat of his body melted the snow around 
him and he dropped off to sleep. While he 
lay there the sun disappeared and a raw, cold 
wind began to blow. Before long the melted 
snow had begun to freeze, and when the 
puppy woke up and tried to scramble to his 
feet, he could not rise. His soft brown fur 
had frozen fast to the ground and he was 
a prisoner! 

Car after car whizzed by, but no one no¬ 
ticed the plight of the half-frozen little 
puppy. At last a car slowed down and 
stopped. A little girl and her mother got out 
and walked back to where he lay. 


118 


BROWNIE PAYS A DEBT 


119 


“What is the matter, puppy?” said the 
woman. “Are you hurt?” 

He looked at them and tried to wag his 
tail. 

“Look, Mother!” exclaimed the little girl. 
“He isn’t hurt. He’s frozen to the ground. 
That’s why he can’t get up!” Again the 
puppy tried to wag his tail at the sound of 
their friendly voices. 

At once the little girl and her mother went 
to work to free him. They broke the ice that 
held him fast and loosened his fur gently. 
At last the puppy struggled to his feet and 
shook himself. Then he looked at his res¬ 
cuers and wagged his tail happily to show 
his gratitude. 

“He is so pretty,” said the little girl. “Can 
we take him home?” 

“Of course. He must be lost, poor little 
fellow,” said her mother. She picked him up 
and carried him to the car. 

From that moment on, the puppy was one 
of the family. And what a large and happy 


120 


HEROES ALL 


family! There were only two children, 
Audrey and small Junior, but there were cats 
and kittens and Boots, the poodle, and later 
on a monkey. And out in the farmyard there 
were cows and chickens and horses and 
ponies. 

They named the new puppy Brownie. He 
was a handsome collie, with soft, golden 
brown hair, white feet, white collar and 
chest, and kind brown eyes. His manners 
were always gentle and dignified, just as a 
well bred collie’s should be. And Brownie 
had a sense of humor, for he would laugh 
silently, wrinkling up his face in a most com¬ 
ical manner, when something amusing oc¬ 
curred. He was a fine watch dog, quick-wit¬ 
ted and brave. 

When the children were small, Brownie 
watched them as carefully as a hen guards 
her chickens. If they ventured too close to 
the road where the cars rushed swiftly past, 
he would catch at their clothes, jerking them 
away from danger and onto safer ground. 


BROWNIE PAYS A DEBT 


121 


He was also very fond of the children’s 
mother and often followed her about the 
farm. One day when the cows had been 
brought in and put in their stanchions, she 
was taken ill and dropped to the floor of the 
barn, unconscious. Brownie stayed close be¬ 
side her, licking her face and trying to com¬ 
fort her, until she was able to get up on her 
feet once more. In every way he could 
Brownie showed his appreciation of the fam¬ 
ily’s kindness to him. A day finally came 
when Brownie paid this debt in full. 

Among the farm animals there was a bad- 
tempered horse that had once injured a farm 
hand. Everyone knew he was vicious and 
not to be trusted, but no one guessed how 
really dangerous he was. This horse grazed 
in the pasture with the other horses, when 
not at work. 

One afternoon, Junior arrived home from 
school bringing a friend. He had promised 
the boy that they would ride the ponies. The 
ponies preferred to stay in the field, however, 


122 


HEROES ALL 


and refused to approach when called. Then 
Junior’s mother came out, carrying a pan of 
oats with which to tempt them. 

The mother and the two boys walked into 
the pasture and began to call to the ponies 
in a coaxing way, shaking the oats about in 
the pan to attract them. They did not notice 
the big work horse watching them intently, 
nor did they notice as he began to paw the 
ground. They did not see his ears suddenly 
flatten, nor catch the wicked look that came 
into his eyes as he glared jealously at the 
boys and the ponies. 

Suddenly there was a thunder of hoofs. 
Head lowered and snorting with rage, the 
angry horse plunged into a gallop and bore 
down upon the unwary little group. Junior’s 
mother barely had time to throw the two 
boys out of his way before he had reached 
her, kicking cruelly with his great hoofs. 
She was thrown to the ground, her hip 
broken. Unable to crawl to safety, she saw 
the horse turn and again charge furiously 


BROWNIE PAYS A DEBT 


123 


toward her. In another second or two she 
knew she would be beneath those trampling 
hoofs and yet there was nothing she could 
do, as she was unable to move. 

During this brief time Brownie had been 
merely watching silently. But when the horse 
made his second charge, Brownie dashed out 
to meet him. He leaped at the horse again 
and again, heading him off and edging him 
away from the helpless figure on the ground. 
Snapping, snarling, barking fiercely and 
shrilly, Brownie headed the horse down to 
the other end of the pasture. By racing back 
and forth before the angry horse, he held 
him cornered until a man came running to¬ 
ward the field. It was Junior’s father who 
quickly picked up his wife and carried her 
to safety. Then, and then only, did Brownie 
leave the horse and run back to the house. 

Brownie had saved the life of his mistress. 
What praise and gratitude were poured out 
upon the faithful collie! A few months later 
when, at the big city dog show, he received 




124 HEROES ALL 

a silver cup as tall as himself for being the 
bravest dog of the year, Brownie remained 
his usual calm and dignified self. People 
actually came up to him and kissed him! 
Quietly and pleasantly Brownie accepted 
their praise. He may even have been think¬ 
ing to himself, “What’s all this fuss about? 
I didn’t do anything much!” 






LITTLE SKIPPER 


B ELGIUM, like The Netherlands, is a land 
of canals. If the fifty canals which 
crisscross its lowlands were stretched into 
one great river, that river would be three 
thousand miles long. Up and down these 
quiet waterways low, broad-beamed boats 
move slowly, carrying cargoes of merchan¬ 
dise from seaport to inland city and town. 
For many hundreds of years such boats have 
been gliding along the canals of Belgium. 
Sometimes the captain and his wife live 
aboard the boat and their children are born 
and raised there. On every boat one of the 
most important members of the family is 
the dog. 

The little dogs on these boats are almost 
all of the same kind, size, and color. For 
four hundred years they have looked just the 

125 


126 


HEROES ALL 


same. They are very small—not over twelve 
pounds in weight—coal-black, short-haired, 
and oddly enough, they seldom have tails. 

They are called Schipperkes, which is a 
Flemish word meaning “little captain” or 
“little skipper.” It is a name of endearment 
which shows how much their masters have 
valued their faithful service through the 
centuries. 

These little dogs have a very definite occu¬ 
pation. They keep the boats free from rats, 
which would otherwise do great damage to 
the cargoes. They are also excellent watch¬ 
dogs. While the little skippers usually live 
on the boats or around the docks, they are 
welcome in any home in Belgium because 
they are clean and watchful and loving. 

One seldom sees a Schipperke in this coun¬ 
try, although he is gradually becoming 
known. If we should chance to see a tiny, 
bright-eyed blackamoor with alert, upstand¬ 
ing ears, glossy coat, soft ruff, very straight 
legs, and no tail we have seen a sample of 





♦ 





































































































































LITTLE SKIPPER 


129 


the breed. But he may not respond to a greet¬ 
ing, for he will have little to do with strang¬ 
ers, though he is friendly with people he 
knows. 

Although some of the Schipperkes are 
born with tails, far more often they have 
none. The Flemish people have an interest¬ 
ing story to explain this. 

Once upon a time, they say, a butcher and 
a shoemaker were neighbors. Each of them 
owned a Schipperke. The butcher’s dog was 
well fed, but the shoemaker’s dog did not 
fare so well. He used to slip over to the 
butcher’s stall now and then and help himself 
to one of the good sausages that hung there. 
One day the butcher caught him at his thiev¬ 
ery. He cut off his tail and sent him home. 
Ever since then, so the story goes, the Schip¬ 
perkes have had no tails. 

Cinder, whose full name is Cinder Queen, 
lives in this country. Like all Schipperkes 
she is curious about everything that goes on. 
She will run to investigate noises that she 


130 


HEROES ALL 


does not recognize. She will pry into corners 
and poke curiously into anything new that 
comes into the house. As for a closed door! 
She wouldn’t be a Schipperke if she did not 
want to know what was on the other side of 
it. It is their inquisitive ways that make the 
little skippers such fine watchdogs. 

Cinder loves her family with a deep devo¬ 
tion, but most of all she loves little Ginny. 
She can remember when Ginny was born. 
Now that the little girl is older and can run 
about at play, she and Cinder are better pals 
than ever. 

When Ginny was a small baby, playing in 
her wooden-barred pen, Cinder would lie be¬ 
side it, with her black eyes fixed on Ginny. 
If the baby cried, the little dog would begin 
to leap in and out of the pen. That usually 
startled or amused the baby so that she 
stopped crying. But if Ginny’s troubles were 
real and she continued to cry, then Cinder 
would scurry away anxiously to fetch Gin¬ 
ny’s mother. 


LITTLE SKIPPER 


131 


Ginny’s parents owned another little skip¬ 
per named Jack Tar, who was just as val¬ 
uable a nursemaid to another baby in the 
family. When the baby cried, Jack Tar 
would raise his nose in the air and howl loud¬ 
ly and woefully. Could any baby really cry 
while such a funny performance was going 
on just outside his pen? He usually stopped, 
but if he kept on crying, then Jack Tar, like 
Cinder, would scamper about until he found 
the baby’s mother and brought her to com¬ 
fort him. 

It is interesting to think that, for hun¬ 
dreds of years, other little black dogs just 
like Cinder and Jack Tar have watched fat, 
rosy-cheeked babies, or walked beside small 
toddlers in wooden shoes, and tried to enter¬ 
tain them when they cried. 

A fine Schipperke and splendid watchdog, 
too, is Kala. An elderly lady lived with the 
family who owned Kala. One day when 
everyone was busy—the maid in the base¬ 
ment washing, the mistress on the second 


132 


HEROES ALL 


floor sewing—the old lady went into the 
kitchen. She was taken suddenly ill and 
clutched at the handle of the oven door to 
steady herself. It swung open and she fell 
to the floor. 

No one heard the noise but Kala, who came 
running to see what had happened. When 
she found the old lady lying on the floor she 
rushed into the basement barking, trying 
her best to tell the maid that something was 
wrong. Then without waiting for the maid 
to answer, she dashed up to the second floor 
and by her excited barking let her mistress 
know also that help was needed in the 
kitchen. 

Wherever he may live—on a canal boat in 
Belgium or in an American home—a Schip- 
perke serves his family wisely and well. He 
is always the alert, watchful, loving little 
friend. 


THE DOG NOBODY WANTED 

REMBLING with fright, the little dog 



lay in a corner of the garage, a home¬ 
less stranger. He was so filthy that it was 
impossible to tell what color he was. When 
Mrs. Meyer reached out to touch him he 
bared his teeth and snarled savagely. Some¬ 
one had treated him very cruelly. 

Mrs. Meyer went into the house and re¬ 
turned shortly with a big bone, covered with 
meat. She called gently to the dog and held 
the bone out to him. He sprang and snatched 
it from her hand, then retreated to the dark 
corner again and began tearing at the bone 
like a wolf. Poor thing! He was almost 
starved. 

Mrs. Meyer continued to talk to him gent¬ 
ly, and he must have felt the kindness in the 
tones of her voice, for when she dared to pick 


133 


134 


HEROES ALL 


him up bodily, he did not utter a sound but 
clung grimly to the bone she had given him. 

When he had finished the bone, she gave 
him a pan of warm milk, which he lapped 
up eagerly. By the time it was gone she had 
made a comfortable bed for him in a box. 
It was probably the best meal and the softest 
bed he had ever had in his short, sad life. He 
lay there watching her, then suddenly, as 
she spoke to him, he wagged his tail. Her 
kindness had already changed his fear to 
trust. 

How dirty this little ragamuffin was! His 
fur was caked with mud and filth. It hung 
about him, matted and stringy. Mrs. Meyer 
filled a tub with warm water and coaxed him 
into it. She covered him from the tip of his 
nose to the tip of his tail with soft, foamy 
lather and then the dirt began to stream off 
his sides. He was rinsed, and rinsed again, 
and dried, until his golden brown fur was 
soft and gleaming. He was an entirely dif¬ 
ferent dog from the dirty tramp of an hour 


THE DOG NOBODY WANTED 


135 


or two before, and now he seemed very 
young—perhaps about six months old. 

“He’s going to be handsome,” said Mrs. 
Meyer to herself. “I’d like to keep him.” 

Her husband objected at first, but finally 
said that if they kept him, he would have to 
stay out in the barn. He looked as though 
he would make a good watchdog. 

Clean, well fed, and almost happy, the 
stranger was given a good bed in the white 
barn that smelled of fresh, sweet hay. They 
called him Dick, after an old dog they had 
lost, and in a few days he was quite happy. 
He liked the horses—the beautiful sleek rid¬ 
ing mounts and the big sturdy plow horses. 
When they climbed the hill to the pasture, 
he trotted beside them. If they frolicked and 
rolled on the turf, he watched them with an 
anxious air, as though worried at their an¬ 
tics. And when they were working in the 
field, he walked soberly along the furrows 
with them. 

Dick soon became a warm-hearted and 


136 


HEROES ALL 


friendly dog. Best of all, he was obedient 
and never attempted to go to the house, but 
stayed about the barn and the pasture. This 
was not easy for him, because he loved his 
new mistress so dearly that he wanted to fol¬ 
low her everywhere. When it was time to 
feed the chickens or milk the cows, he would 
sit and wait for her to appear. After follow¬ 
ing her about at all her tasks, he would walk 
a little way toward the house with her, then 
sit down and watch until she had disappeared 
inside the kitchen. How he did want to come 
and live at the house with them! 

It was one of the happiest days of his life 
when he was finally given a bed on the side 
porch. Soon after this Dick showed his ap¬ 
preciation by scaring away some thieves who 
had come to help themselves from the wood- 
pile. 

Mrs. Meyer had owned a great many dogs 
but when Dick came she had only one, a 
beautiful little collie named Rex. He was 
gentle, very timid, and horribly afraid of 






/ 



















































































' % 
































































THE DOG NOBODY WANTED 


139 


strange dogs. Dick began at once to look 
after Rex and protect him, thus making 
Rex’s life very happy. The two dogs roamed 
about the woods and explored the banks of 
the creeks, and whenever Rex became 
frightened he howled for Dick, who came 
running to his rescue. 

One day he was set upon by some strange 
hounds. “Ki—yi, ki—yi,” he wailed. 

In a moment Dick appeared from over the 
hill and planted himself between the strange 
dogs and Rex. Growling and bristling an¬ 
grily, he dared them to harm the frightened 
little collie. The hounds almost fell over each 
other in their hurry to get away, and Dick’s 
master, who had seen it all, smiled happily 
at the way Dick took care of timid Rexie. 

As time went on the friendship between 
the two dogs became even stronger, and 
everywhere that Dick went, Rex trailed close 
behind. 

One bitter March day the two left the 
house together. A short time later Mrs. 


140 


HEROES ALL 


Meyer, who was in the house, heard a dog 
howling. It was a strange wailing cry, as 
though the animal were in distress. 

The cry came again, and then again. Mrs. 
Meyer went to the window and saw Dick rac¬ 
ing across the fields toward the house. She 
opened the door and in he rushed, greatly 
excited, and alone. 

“Where’s Rexie?” asked Mr. Meyer. 

At that Dick dashed out again, running a 
little way and then returning to look at them 
with an anxious appeal in his brown eyes 
that spoke as plainly as words. 

His master pulled on his boots and fol¬ 
lowed Dick. The dog led him across snowy 
fields and patches of woodland. Now and 
then the wailing howls reached them. Dick, 
who had rushed ahead, would stop im¬ 
patiently and then race on again when he 
saw his master following. He was leading 
him toward the creek. 

At last they arrived at the banks of the 
little stream and Mr. Meyer saw what was 


THE DOG NOBODY WANTED 


141 


wrong. Rexie had fallen through a hole in 
the ice in midstream. With his forepaws he 
was clinging desperately to the ragged edges 
of the ice, in danger any moment of being 
swept beneath the ice and drowned, for the 
water was deep and there was a strong cur¬ 
rent. Mr. Meyer stepped gingerly out on the 
ice, while Dick watched expectantly, sure 
that everything would be all right now. 
Reaching out cautiously, Mr. Meyer grasped 
the frightened Rexie by his fur and pulled 
him out. 

Dick capered about in joy when his play¬ 
mate was safe beside him once more. Rexie 
had been in the water so long that he was 
almost frozen. He could not even walk. Mr. 
Meyer carried him back to the house and 
there Mrs. Meyer wrapped him in one of her 
best blankets and laid him beside the fire. 
She gave him hot milk and raw egg, while 
Dick sat beside him watching with faithful 
brown eyes. 

It was hours before Rexie could drag him- 


142 


HEROES ALL 


self about, but after a few days he was as 
well as ever. Never again, though, would 
Rex go near the creek. 

Dick received an International Diploma of 
Honor and a great deal of praise. Everyone 
was happy to think that the homeless waif 
that nobody had wanted had turned out to 
be a real hero. 

The friendship between the two dogs con¬ 
tinued for several years. One sad day Rex 
dragged himself home with a bullet wound 
in his side. He was a harmless little fellow, 
and it is hard to understand why anyone 
would have shot him. Perhaps it was an acci¬ 
dent. He lived for several days, while Dick 
sat by his side, licking the wound and watch¬ 
ing him sorrowfully. He had saved Rex once, 
but he could not save him now. Rexie died 
and was buried in the yard under the pear 
tree. Dick never forgot the timid little fel¬ 
low that he loved, and day after day he lay 
on Rexie’s grave under the pear tree, griev¬ 
ing in silence for his lost playmate, 


PALS 


B ETWEEN Rex and Spud there is a deep 
friendship and loyalty that leaves no 
room for other four-footed companions. The 
two dogs have made a kingdom of their 
street, over which they are the sole rulers. 
Neighborhood dogs have long since learned 
to pass them by with fear and respect. 
Strange dogs, once having wandered into 
their realm, give it a wide berth forever 
after. With human beings the dogs have no 
quarrel. 

Rex is Bill’s dog, and Spud belongs to Bill’s 
pal, Bud. Before Bud moved to Bill’s street, 
Spud had already made a name for himself 
as a very intelligent dog. Bud’s family were 
then living some distance out in the country, 
and across the road from them lived a fam¬ 
ily who owned Spud’s sister. She disappeared 


143 


144 


HEROES ALL 


one day, and after four or five days was still 
missing. 

Spud, in the meantime, had spent much of 
his time away from home. When he returned 
he was always so excited that they finally 
decided he was trying to tell them some¬ 
thing. The next time he started out of the 
yard they followed him. Spud was greatly 
pleased. He led them deep into the nearby 
woods, parts of which were quite wild. When 
at last he stopped, they discovered before 
them Spud’s sister, caught in a steel trap and 
unable to free herself. Spud had been visit¬ 
ing her each day, carrying food to her, as was 
proved by traces of bones on the ground. 
Now, at last, he had brought the family to 
her rescue. 

When Bud’s family moved to Bill’s street, 
Spud took a liking to Rex and appointed him¬ 
self as the younger dog’s teacher. Rex was 
only a puppy, but was already of immense 
size and very handsome. Both Rex and Spud 
were German shepherd dogs, but Spud was 


PALS 


145 


much smaller and also four years older than 
Rex. He was very wise in all his ways. 

In spite of his huge size, Rex was not a 
fighter, and when drawn into a fight he was 
more than likely to be the loser. Spud 
changed that. He became Rex’s champion 
and made Rex’s quarrels his own. He would 
plunge into a fight, tooth and nail, until the 
other dog howled for mercy. 

This had been going on for some time, 
Spud waging Rex’s battles and Rex on the 
sidelines barking encouragement, when one 
day the larger dog suddenly grasped the 
idea. He decided that he too could fight. He 
stepped in bravely, took a nip at the strange 
dog, and came out so well that after that he 
was at Spud’s side in every fight. The two 
became a terror to all dogs, a situation which 
brought their owners much trouble. They 
often wished that Spud and Rex did not find 
these fights so enjoyable. 

Rex has a roomy kennel in his yard where 
he sleeps at night and sometimes rests dur- 


146 


HEROES ALL 


ing the day. Spud took a liking to this ken¬ 
nel the first day he saw it. Much as he liked 
Rex, he liked his kennel even better. If Rex 
were inside, Spud would walk up to the low 
entrance and give a short, low, commanding 
growl. 

It was enough. Rex would scramble out in 
a hurry and give up his warm bed to his visi¬ 
tor. For his own nap he would curl up on the 
stone just outside. They never quarreled 
over the kennel because Rex always gave it 
up without a whimper. 

One day Rex’s family noticed a change. 
Spud had stopped ordering Rex out of the 
kennel, but how or why they never knew. 
Instead, he waited outside until Rex came 
out of his own accord, then he slipped in. 
From that time on, the first dog there occu¬ 
pied the kennel and the other waited patient¬ 
ly outside. Sometimes, though, it was nip 
and tuck as to who got there first. 

Rex and Spud are seldom apart during the 
day. Bill and Bud have decided that their 


PALS 


147 


dogs plan just what they will do each day. 
One day they will disappear into the woods 
and be gone for hours, returning dusty and 
weary and covered with burrs. Another time 
they will stay at home together, sitting and 
barking foolishly at the birds or keeping an 
eye out for strange dogs. 

One morning the two dogs sat on the front 
lawn waiting for something interesting to 
happen. And it soon did. The small Scottie 
who lived across the street came trotting 
happily around the corner of her house with 
two yellow chicken feet in her mouth. She 
dropped them on the grass and slowly made 
ready to enjoy herself. 

The two pals sat watching her. Did Spud 
say to Rex, “Look at Scottie. Two chicken 
feet! Wouldn’t they taste good?” And did 
Rex reply, “Wait, I’ll see what I can do?” 

Perhaps. At any rate, Rex arose and am¬ 
bled across the street as though interested 
in anything but chicken feet. He approached 
Scottie in the friendliest manner, Scottie 


148 


HEROES ALL 


stood up to greet him with polite sniffs. She 
was pleased to have so handsome a visitor, 
when he seldom noticed her. 

The moment her back was turned on the 
chicken feet, Spud dashed across the street, 
snatched them in his mouth and raced back, 
with Rex close behind him. 

Spud dropped the choice tidbits, chose one, 
and allowed Rex to have the other. Each 
dog began to enjoy a chicken foot, crunching 
noisily. Scottie watched them in dismay, 
then trotted across the street. Rex and Spud 
growled at her rudely and she ran back 
home, while they finished her dinner with 
great relish. 

There came a winter when Bud’s family 
decided to go to California. They planned to 
leave Spud in a boarding kennel until their 
return. Bill’s family offered to take the dog, 
but Spud’s owners said that the two dogs 
would only get into mischief if left together. 
So one Sunday morning Spud was driven 
nine miles into the country and introduced 


PALS 


14D 


to his new boarding place. After telling him 
to be a good dog, the family bade him good¬ 
bye and then drove away. 

Spud had his own ideas about staying in 
this strange place. Scarcely had the sound 
of the car died away before he was chewing 
at the leash that held him. He was frantic 
in his efforts to escape. On Tuesday morn¬ 
ing, the owner of the kennel heard a door 
bang and looked out just in time to see Spud 
streaking down the road. He had clawed and 
chewed the door until at last he had broken 
it open. 

Later in the day there was a sharp scratch¬ 
ing at the back door of Rex’s home. When 
it was opened Spud bounded in with a de¬ 
lighted yelp. Rex and Spud pranced about, 
barking in rapture at being reunited. Nat¬ 
urally, after that, Spud stayed at Rex’s house 
the rest of the winter. 

Spud had amusing and clever ways of do¬ 
ing things. One evening the two dogs were 
given their dinner, each in his own dish. The 


150 


HEROES ALL 


tempting stew of vegetables, cornmeal, and 
meat was poured into the two pans which 
were placed on the stone doorstep outside. 
Both dogs were hungry and impatient to eat. 

Bex circled around his dish, snatching a 
mouthful and then backing away when he 
found it uncomfortably hot. Spud was more 
practical. After he had sniffed the stew and 
found he could not eat it at once, he lifted 
the edge of the dish with his teeth and tipped 
it over on the cold stone step. He then pro¬ 
ceeded to paw it around and spread it out, 
and in another minute it was cool enough for 
him to eat. His supper had quite disappeared 
and he was licking the bare stone while Rex 
was still waiting impatiently for his stew to 
cool in the dish. 

When Bud was home, the two dogs often 
went with their masters on long hikes 
through the woods. Now and then it was an 
overnight hike, and it would be hard to say 
which enjoyed themselves more — boys or 
dogs. The boys’ parents were happy about 



















































































































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PALS 


153 


it because they knew that no one would dare 
to molest the two young woodsmen while Rex 
and Spud were with them. 

After Bud went to California, Bill some¬ 
times went out alone with the two dogs. One 
bright day, shortly after Christmas, he called 
Rex and Spud and started for the woods to 
try out a new steel sled. The hills were cov¬ 
ered with a smooth glare of ice. Coasting 
was exciting and full of hazards, especially 
as the new sled was capable of lightning 
speed. As Bill shot down a slope with terrific 
swiftness, the sled went out of control and 
swerved into a tree with a fearful crash. For 
some time Bill lay unconscious in the icy still¬ 
ness of the woods. Both of his legs were 
broken. 

The two dogs were aware of his peril. They 
hovered over him, licking his face. When he 
became conscious, he placed a hand on each 
dog’s head and shouted with what strength 
was left in him. The dogs began to bark, 
loudly and persistently until at last a man, 


154 


HEROES ALL 


far on the other side of the ravine, was at¬ 
tracted by their noise and came to see what 
was wrong - . He brought help as quickly as 
possible. 

“It must have been terrible, out there with 
no one around,” someone said to Bill months 
afterward, when he was still in a plaster cast. 

“It was, but it would have been worse with¬ 
out Rex and Spud,” said Bill. 




BOSS, A DOG OF THE CUMBERLANDS 


H IGH on a mountainside in the Cumber¬ 
land Mountains of Virginia, eighteen 
miles from a town, there is a tiny cabin. It 
is built so close to the side of the mountain 
that its roof touches an overhanging cliff. 
Trees press closely about it and a corn patch 
grows up to the very doorstep. 

A steep and rocky road leads up the moun¬ 
tain to the cabin where Mr. and Mrs. Baker, 
their two little boys, and their shepherd dog 
Boss, live happily. 

When the Bakers were married, an uncle 
gave the young couple a shepherd pup. It 
was white marked with brown and had one 
blue eye and one brown. He was a bright 
little fellow. 

“Some day he will make you a fine dog,” 
said Uncle Gen wisely. So they kept him and 


155 


156 


HEROES ALL 


named him Boss, and sure enough, Uncle 
Gen’s prophecy came true. Boss made a fine 
dog and a brave one. 

Boss used to lie on the cabin floor near the 
door, keeping watch over Uni, the baby, 
when his mother had to get wood and water 
or work in the garden. When another little 
fellow came, Boss had two young charges in 
his care. Uni was three years old and the 
baby was three months old when something 
happened that made Mr. and Mrs. Baker 
more thankful than ever that Boss was a 
member of the family. 

Boss was very busy watching over the 
household, seeing that no prowlers ventured 
near the cabin and that no harm came to the 
children whom he loved. He was often left 
alone with them and never failed in his trust. 
Now and then, however, Mrs. Baker would 
take the children with her. On these trips 
Boss was a welcome companion along the 
lonely mountain road. How he loved to dash 
ahead, making quick excursions into the 


BOSS, A DOG OF THE CUMBERLANDS 157 

woods and then rushing back to see that his 
two little boys were quite safe. 

One day Mr. Baker had gone to work at a 
place three miles away. Toward noon Mrs. 
Baker began to pack a lunch to take to her 
husband. Boss watched her intently. Would 
she take Uni and the baby? If she did, then 
the wise fellow knew that he could go along. 
At last she was ready. She picked up the baby 
and the basket and, telling Uni to follow, 
said, “Come along, Boss!” 

Crazy with joy, Boss dashed out and was 
far down the road before Mrs. Baker had yet 
closed the door. As she turned to leave the 
house, a dark furry shape came lumbering 
around the cabin and, growling fiercely, 
made straight for her. She had often seen 
small wild animals about the cabin. Some¬ 
times there were deer. But this was the first 
bear that had ever come so close. 

As she moved he made a grab for her feet, 
clawing at her heavy, thick-soled shoes 
which were tied on with strips of rag. As 


158 


HEROES ALL 


the strips gave way and her shoes were torn 
off, he continued to claw at her feet, enraged 
now at the sight of blood. 

Uni was screaming in terror. His mother 
picked him up and dropped him in the huge 
empty rain barrel that stood beside the 
cabin. Then, snatching a pole, she tried to 
beat the animal off. At last in desperation 
she shouted, “Boss! Boss!” 

The bear was now clawing and biting at 
her hands and arms. With the baby in one 
arm she fought wildly. Suddenly she heard 
a challenging bark. Out of the woods came 
Boss, dashing to the rescue. 

Although Boss was a good-sized shepherd 
dog, he was small compared with the bear. 
But his courage was great. Springing on the 
bear’s back he attacked it savagely. For 
twenty minutes the two animals fought. Not 
finding any place to lay the baby, Mrs. Baker 
continued to hold him while she beat at the 
bear with the pole she had picked up. Around 
and around they tussled and fought, the 





















































































































































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BOSS, A DOG OF THE CUMBERLANDS 161 

shepherd dog and the bear, clawing and bit¬ 
ing fiercely. 

Twice, from the depths of the rain barrel, 
little Uni cried out in fright. • Each time Boss 
left the bear and rushed to the barrel to see 
if the little boy were safe. Then back he 
dashed, renewing his attack. Suddenly the 
bear turned, ran up the cliff behind the 
house, and took refuge on the roof. If he 
had thought to escape the dog in this way, 
he was mistaken, for Boss was after him in 
a second. Soon Boss had crowded him to the 
highest corner of the roof, where it touched 
the overhanging cliff, and in another mo¬ 
ment he had forced the bear to the ground. 
The bear had had enough. Weary and bloody, 
he slumped off into the woods, with Boss 
snapping triumphantly at his heels. 

Mrs. Baker rescued Uni from the rain bar¬ 
rel and went inside. Her clothing was in 
shreds, and her hands, arms, legs, and feet 
were badly wounded. She knew she must find 
a doctor. Binding up her hands and feet as 


162 


HEROES ALL 


best she could and gathering her little fam¬ 
ily together, she set out painfully to find her 
husband. This time Boss did not dash on 
ahead but stayed close beside them. 

It was some time before Mrs. Baker was 
able to leave the hospital and return to the 
little cabin on the mountainside. Meanwhile 
Boss received all the acclaim that was due 
him for his courage and faithfulness. In¬ 
stead of sleeping under the front porch, Boss 
now sleeps on an old sack close beside the 
door. Perhaps he is waiting for another bear. 
If he is, he will be ready for it. 



FAITHFUL FRITZ 


F RITZ was born when the five Kingsley 
children were quite young and needed 
protection. He was half greyhound and half 
Irish setter. He had a gentle and lovable 
nature and the children had many reasons 
to be grateful for his faithful care. 

When a dog lives in the midst of a family 
of lively children, he becomes uncommonly 
knowing. They were sure he understood all 
they said, and certainly he did everything 
but actually talk. If one of the children 
cried, Fritz cried. When they were happy, he 
was happy. He was constant in his self- 
appointed task of looking after the children, 
especially John, who often got into mischief 
or embarked on adventures that were likely 
to end in grief. 

One winter day young John decided to go 

163 


164 


HEROES ALL 


skating on the reservoir. It was a dangerous 
place to choose for such sport as the water 
was deep and the ice none too thick. John 
put on his skates and glided out toward the 
middle of the reservoir. When he turned 
toward shore again, he discovered that the 
ice had broken away and he was stranded on 
an island of ice. 

The boy began to shout for help, and soon 
his cries brought his brother Dan, and Fritz. 
There seemed to be nothing they could do 
to help, so Dan went to find one of the work¬ 
men who was employed on the grounds. He 
hurried to the rescue with a bit of rope but 
they soon found, to their dismay, that they 
were unable to toss the rope across the wa¬ 
ter to John. 

Things were looking pretty hopeless when 
suddenly it occurred to them that perhaps 
Fritz could take the rope to the stranded 
boy. 

They gave him one end of the rope. 
“Here!” cried Dan, “take it to John!” 


FAITHFUL FRITZ 


165 


Fritz seized the rope in his teeth and 
plunged into the water. It was ice cold but 
he swam bravely to where John awaited him. 
John tied the rope securely around his waist 
and then it was his turn to slip into the icy 
water of the reservoir. He was pulled ashore 
to safety and was none the worse for the 
adventure. Fritz was the hero of the day. 
He was given an extra good dinner and a 
great deal of praise for his courage. 

The children were seldom out of his sight, 
especially in the summer, when he could 
spend the whole day with them. When school 
began, Fritz was lonely. At first he went to 
school with the children, following them 
through the woods and along the road and 
then slipping inside the schoolhouse and ly¬ 
ing down behind the stove. He was very 
quiet and never bothered anyone. School 
rules forbade a dog in the schoolroom, how¬ 
ever, so the teacher said that Fritz must not 
come inside. Staying away from school was 
one of the hardest things for Fritz to learn. 


166 


HEROES ALL 


The children’s mother would shut him in 
the house, where he wandered about lone- 
somely, waiting for the clock hands to swing 
around to three o’clock. A little before the 
hour Mother would say, “Time to go for the 
children, Fritz,’’ and open the door. Then 
he would dart off to school to meet his young 
charges. 

One day, coming home from school, Fritz 
was the hero of another adventure and again 
it was John whom he rescued. 

There had been a heavy downpour of rain 
during the afternoon. When the children 
raced out of the school building they found 
the ditches along the road filled with rushing 
torrents of yellow water. The boys and girls 
whooped and yelled in excitement, throwing 
sticks and branches into the water to see 
them bob and whirl away in the swirling 
stream. In the midst of this fun John slipped, 
missed his footing, and rolled down the bank 
into the swift current. His companions tried 
to help him, but it was not until Fritz leaped 


FAITHFUL FRITZ 


167 


in, seized him by the arm, and held him up 
that he was able to clamber to safety. Fritz 
always seemed to be on hand when he was 
most needed. 

One day a very amusing thing happened. 
The younger boys had started for school, 
carrying their lunch in a basket. With so 
many interesting things to see and examine 
and discuss, it is no wonder that somewhere 
along the way one of them set down the 
lunch basket and forgot to pick it up again. 
Heedlessly they went on and were almost at 
the school when they discovered that the 
basket was missing. A whole school day 
without any lunch! That was unthinkable. 
One of the children started back to find the 
missing basket when, much to their surprise, 
they saw Fritz trotting down the road, carry¬ 
ing the basket in his mouth. He had picked 
it up and was bringing it to them. Never 
was a dog greeted with greater delight. 

Hunting was fun for the boys, but Fritz 
enjoyed it just as much. Sometimes the boys 


168 


HEROES ALL 


would shoulder a gun and set out to get a 
rabbit. Those were the times when Fritz 
had no doubt that he would be needed, for 
while the boys never actually got a rabbit 
they seldom returned home without one! It 
was lucky for the boys that their dog could 
not talk, for it was good old Fritz who caught 
the rabbits that they took home for dinner. 

Throughout his life Fritz was faithful 
always—in sport or danger. No wonder the 
children liked to call him Faithful Fritz. 



SKIPPER’S LOST APPETITE 


S KIPPER would not eat. He was deaf to 
Janey’s coaxing as she sat on the floor 
beside him and told him what a good supper 
it was, all juicy chunks of meat and carrots 
and spinach. Even when she said that she 
might call the kitty and give him Skipper’s 
supper, the little wire-haired terrier refused 
to taste it. He sat dutifully beside his dish, 
but his gaze was fixed sadly on the door. This 
was very strange, for Skipper usually had 
an extremely good appetite. 

“Well,” said Janey Brink, “I give up. Are 
you sick—or what? Maybe you and Mickey 
have been out hunting and eaten something 
you shouldn’t.” 

Her brother Bob strolled into the kitchen. 
“What’s wrong, Skipper? Do your teeth 
hurt?” 


16? 


170 


HEROES ALL 


Skipper protested silently but violently 
while Bob examined his rows of shining 
white teeth, then he trotted over to the door 
and looked imploringly at the knob as though 
he expected it to turn and let him out. 

“His teeth are all right. Queer he should 
act so,” said Bob, but was interrupted as the 
dog broke into a sudden volley of wild bark¬ 
ing. 

A rap had sounded on the door. Opening 
it, Bob found Dickie King, a young neigh¬ 
bor, standing outside. 

Dick did not wait for a greeting. “Bob,” 
he blurted, “I can’t find Mickey anywhere. 
He hasn’t been home all afternoon. I’ve 
looked everywhere—down by the drugstore, 
over at Grandma’s, and around school. Have 
you seen him?” 

Bob and Janey both shook their heads. 
Mickey was a rusty brown cocker spaniel, a 
lovable pup and Skipper’s best pal. When 
not with the boys and Janey, the two dogs 
spent much Qf their time together, trailing 


SKIPPER’S LOST APPETITE 


171 


through fields and woods, startling field mice 
into their holes, treeing squirrels, and catch¬ 
ing frogs by the brook. 

The moment that Bob had opened the door, 
Skipper had darted out into the night. Now 
he had scampered back and was watching 
them, his bright eyes fixed on their faces, 
his sharp ears listening for familiar words. 

“We’ll go out and help look for Mickey,” 
said Bob. “Wait until I get a flashlight and 
tell Mother.” 

“Maybe Skipper would help us, too,” said 
Janey, “though he has been acting awfully 
queer. He wouldn’t eat his supper. Skipper, 
where’s Mickey?” 

At her words, Skipper gave a sharp bark 
and darted off again. 

The three started out into the frosty star¬ 
lit night. Before they reached the sidewalk, 
Skipper had run across the street and into a 
field. Flashing the light after him they could 
see that he was following the path that led 
to the woods. 


172 


HEROES ALL 


“He thinks we’re going hunting,” said 
Dick. 

“Maybe he’s just chasing a rabbit,” sug¬ 
gested Janey. 

They were all afraid to hope. So many 
things had been running through their 
minds. Mickey was so friendly, perhaps 
someone had picked him up, or perhaps he 
had wandered onto the highway. 

“Skipper’s pretty bright,” said Bob. “Let’s 
give him a chance.” 

In a flurry of dried leaves, Skipper had 
come rushing back and was now waiting im¬ 
patiently for them. 

“Okay, lets go, Skipper,” agreed Dick. 

Skipper turned and ran ahead, and the 
three children followed. They could see him 
crashing through tangled weeds and under¬ 
brush. Bob kept the flashlight trained on 
the dog’s bobbing white tail. They had been 
wandering through the woods for perhaps 
five minutes when suddenly Skipper’s voice 
was raised in a storm of wild yelping. 


SKIPPER'S LOST APPETITE 


173 


“Sounds as though he had a squirrel up a 
tree,” said Bob. He sent the light streaming 
in the direction of the sound. 

“If it’s only a squirrel he’s found—” said 
Dick, and then stopped. “Look! See those 
two little lights?” He started to run. 

Janey caught at his coat, “Wait, maybe 
it’s a skunk!” 

Dick shook her hand from his arm, “Skunk 
nothing! That’s Mickey! Here, Mickey. 
Here, fellow. Hey, why don’t you come?” 

Mickey was sitting close to a fence post 
and Skipper was prancing around him lick¬ 
ing his ears and nose, barking joyfully. 
Mickey just sat there, wiggling his little 
brown body happily but otherwise not mov¬ 
ing. 

In that second all three, Dick and Bob and 
Janey, had the same thought. Was Mickey 
caught in a trap? 

“Look! No wonder he can’t move,” said 
Dick. “His collar is holding him to this wire!” 

Dick loosened the collar from Mickey’s 


174 


HEROES ALL 


neck. The skin had been rubbed away in the 
little fellow’s frantic efforts to release him¬ 
self. Now he raced about in a wild fit of joy, 
leaping first at one and then another of the 
trio, then tearing off to run in circles with 
the delighted Skipper close beside him. 

“So that’s where he’s been all afternoon,” 
said Dick soberly as he pulled the collar 
away from the wire on which it had caught. 
“He and Skipper must have been out here 
hunting and when he tried to go under this 
fence his collar caught on the wire. If it 
hadn’t been for old Skipper, I might never 
have found Mickey. Why, he could even have 
died out here.” 

Now that his small friend was safe, Skip¬ 
per had only one thought in his mind: to get 
home. When Janey and Bob reached the 
house a few minutes later they found Skip¬ 
per in the kitchen sitting beside a dish from 
which every bit of carrots and spinach and 
meat had disappeared, Skipper’s appetite 
had returned, 


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WALDI 


O NE day in the city of Berlin, Germany, 
a little dachshund lay in the corner of 
a cage in the dog pound. He was broken¬ 
hearted, sick, and frightened. With his head 
resting on his tail he lay, listening for a 
familiar voice or step. Twelve long, unhappy 
days had passed since he had been picked 
up on the street, bewildered and anxious, 
completely lost. His well-groomed appear¬ 
ance and fine collar showed that he came 
from a good home. He had been plump, but 
now his sleek little body was growing thin 
because he would not eat, and his warm 
brown eyes were dull and unhappy. 

Twelve days had passed and no one had 
come to claim him. The law said that dogs 
could not be kept at the pound for more than 
fourteen days. Then if they had not been 


177 


178 


HEROES ALL 


claimed, or no home had been found for 
them, they must be put to sleep. Waldi had 
just two short days left in which to live. 

On the afternoon of the twelfth day a visi¬ 
tor came to the pound. She had not come 
to find a lost dog, but just to see the dogs 
because she loved them. The keeper of the 
pound was glad to show her about. The visi¬ 
tor had spent all her life in the theatre and 
the circus. Her father was famous in many 
countries of the world as a trainer of dogs. 

She wandered up and down before the 
cages, sometimes greeted by excited bark¬ 
ing, sometimes by sad little whines. At last 
she came to the cage where lay the little red 
dachshund. He looked past her silently. She 
spoke to him but he did not notice her. He 
was listening for another voice, one that he 
knew. 

“Poor little fellow. How did you come 
here?” she said softly. 

The keeper answered for the little dog. 

“He was picked up on the street, twelve 


WALDI 


179 


days ago. He has only two more days here.” 

“Two days?” Such a short while in which 
to live. 

She looked at the lonely little creature and 
tears came to her eyes. 

“I want him,” she said. “May I have him?” 

One could not just pick out a dog and take 
him away from the pound, the keeper ex¬ 
plained. Before he let a dog go he must be 
sure that a dog would have a good home 
for the rest of his life and that he would 
never be turned loose to stray or be ill- 
treated in any way. Also, the costs of his 
keep at the pound must be paid. In this case 
the costs were twenty-eight marks, or, in our 
money, about six dollars. 

Nana, for that was the visitor’s name, had 
made up her mind that she would have the 
little dachshund^ She was sure that she could 
make him happy again, and she told the 
keeper that she would always give him a 
good home and good care. She opened her 
purse and counted out the twenty-eight 


180 


HEROES ALL 


marks. There were papers to be signed and 
addresses to be given, but at last it was all 
done. She walked out of the pound with the 
sad little dachshund in her arms. 

Not until then did she think of what her 
father would say. It was best to know at 
once. She hurried to the Winter Garden, the 
theater where her father’s dogs were per¬ 
forming. 

“Look,” she said, “I have a new dog,” and 
she showed him the dachshund. 

Her father stared. “Another dog! I have 
already thirty-five poodles! And a dachs¬ 
hund! Don’t you know that a dachshund is 
stubborn and slow to learn? Why, it takes 
him three times as long as a poodle to learn 
a trick.” 

“But I only want him for a pet,” she pro¬ 
tested. Her father shook his head, “No.” 

Nana could not bear to take the sad little 
dachshund back to the pound. She coaxed 
and begged and finally wept. And at last her 
father relented, 


WALDI 


181 


“Very well, but you will see—” 

She took the new pet back to the hotel 
where they were living. . It was a strange 
home for a dog, but a comfortable one. With 
the new home came a new name—Waldi 
(pronounced Val'di). 

In spite of love and the gentlest care, it 
was many weeks before Waldi even wanted 
to live. Two months went by before he be¬ 
gan to show any interest in what went on 
about him. Gradually Nana could see him 
growing more contented and even a little 
happy. 

As she watched him, Nana wondered if it 
were true that dachshunds really were so 
slow to learn. To amuse herself she began 
to teach the sad little fellow such simple 
tricks as sitting up and rolling over. She 
was surprised when he learned them easily. 
Working at them seemed to amuse Waldi, 
too. He was always greatly pleased when 
she praised and patted him for good work. 
By doing what she wished, Nana felt that 



182 


HEROES ALL 


he was showing his gratitude for his new 
home. 

She began to teach him other, more diffi¬ 
cult, tricks. It was true that he was stubborn 
at times and that he learned rather slowly, 
but once he had mastered a trick he never 
failed her. As she watched him, Nana had 
an idea. Her father had a troupe of perform¬ 
ing black poodles. Why could not she have a 
troupe of performing dachshunds, all red, 
like Waldi? And Waldi could be its leader! 

Everyone said it would be too hard a task 
and that it would be far too long, years per¬ 
haps, before they could all be trained. It 
takes three times as long, they reminded her 
over and over, to train a dachshund as to 
train either a poodle or a fox terrier. But 
Nana did not care. She was willing to be 
patient. She was determined to have the only 
troupe of performing dachshunds in the 
world. She started at once to find other little 
dachshunds of the same red color and size 
as her dear Waldi. 


WALDI 


183 


Her quest led her through kennels and pet 
shops and dog pounds in this country and 
Europe. As soon as she found a dog she 
wanted she began to train him with Waldi. 
Twenty minutes each morning, twenty min¬ 
utes each afternoon, day after day they 
worked. After that they could play. They 
were happy even though it was slow, pains¬ 
taking work. Waldi often became impatient 
with the newcomers. When they were slow 
or stubborn he sometimes grew peevish at 
having to work with them, over and over, at 
tasks he already knew well. And as soon as 
the others learned they, in turn, were cross 
at times with the newest one. Often enough 
the lesson ended in a tangle of snapping, 
growling little dachshunds. But when it was 
over and each had received a pat and a word 
of praise, they were all happy together 
again. 

The months lengthened into years, four to 
be exact, before the little dogs were suffi¬ 
ciently trained to make their bows before the 


184 


HEROES ALL 


public. At last Waldi and his fifteen friends 
were ready for their debut. 

The date was set for their first appearance, 
and Nana could scarcely wait for the day to 
come. Then—tragedy. One Sunday morning 
Waldi, instead of trotting down the runway 
that led from the dog quarters into the gar¬ 
den, jumped to the ground. It was only a 
matter of two feet, not much of a jump, but 
in doing it Waldi fell and could not rise 
again. He had broken his spine. The doctor 
came, but shook his head. Nana begged him 
to save Waldi’s life. He finally decided to put 
Waldi in a plaster cast, but said that the lit¬ 
tle dog would never again be able to perform 
his tricks. 

Nana tended Waldi as lovingly as though 
he were a child. She was determined that he 
should live, even though he would be only a 
companion, not a show dog. For many weeks 
he lay in the cast. Then one day the doctor 
said that his spine was healed enough for 
the cast to be removed. They took it off. Oh, 


WALDI 


185 


what a weak little dog! “Never mind,” said 
his mistress, “I will help him to grow 
strong.” She gave him special treatments 
and he did grow stronger, day by day. After 
awhile he was able to run around again. One 
day the plucky little fellow surprised them 
all by wanting to go through the tricks with 
the other dogs. 

Though he never regained all his former 
strength, he was able to step once more into 
his role as leader of the troupe. The plucky 
little fellow had something in him that just 
would not give up. 

Finally, a year later than had originally 
been planned, Waldi and his company of 
trained dachshunds made their first appear¬ 
ance before the public, to the rapturous de¬ 
light of thousands of children. No wonder 
audiences were amused. No one had ever 
before seen such odd little creatures working 
together perfectly in one act. 

They would waltz and pirouette, to the 
music of the circus band, on their short hind 


186 


HEROES ALL 


legs, while Nana waltzed gaily beside them 
in her scarlet jacket and plumed hat. Waldi 
would catch the extra-sized frankfurters 
that were tossed to him from a springboard 
tripped by Coffee, another member of the 
troupe. Two of the little dogs could balance 
themselves on a tight wire, raise themselves 
to their hind legs, and finally achieve a sit¬ 
ting position, all of which is very, very diffi¬ 
cult. Prince, dressed like a colored mammy 
in red bandanna and full skirts, would walk 
in, wheeling a little baby carriage in which 
were three tiny Chiuhuahua puppies. It was 
part of the show for Prince to be a bad nurse, 
fall down in a limp heap, tip over the car¬ 
riage and spill out the babies. When he was 
picked up he would fall down again, and 
finally he would be carried off in disgrace, 
much to the delight of the audiences who 
love such clowning. The troupe of dachs¬ 
hunds had many other funny antics, such as 
jumping over barrels, weaving in and out 
between them, nose to tail, tail to nose ? then 






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WALDI 


189 


jumping atop the barrels at a word and sit¬ 
ting up on their hinders in a long solemn row. 

It is interesting to know how the tight wire 
routine was acquired. First the two little 
dogs learned to sit up on a table. The table 
was soon replaced by a narrow board. From 
time to time a narrower board was substi¬ 
tuted and they would learn to balance on 
that. Finally a wire was stretched in place 
of the narrow board. What a triumph it was 
when Rita and Golda, after eight months of 
patient work, were able at last to climb up 
on the wire, balance on it, sit down, and 
finally raise themselves to a sitting position. 
It is one of the most difficult of all tricks. 
Small wonder that Rita and Golda were 
proud and happy each time they accom¬ 
plished it perfectly. 

During all their travels, Nana herself pre¬ 
pared the dogs’ meals, to be sure that no 
harm came to the animals. She cooked their 
food in a great five-gallon kettle over an 
electric stove which she carried with her. 


190 


HEROES ALL 


Each day she would buy sixteen pounds of 
meat, eight pounds of spinach, four pounds 
of carrots, three gallons of milk, and three 
dozen eggs. Every morning they had cereal 
for breakfast, and at noon a big dog biscuit 
on which to gnaw. In the afternoon they 
each had a big drink of water. Good food 
not only made the dogs happy and healthy 
but also kept their coats smooth and silky. 
Of course they were sleek and handsome 
with such excellent care. 

Just before each performance they were 
brushed until they shone, and their best col¬ 
lars—bright green to match the green satin 
covers of the tables on which they performed 
—were strapped about their slender throats. 

Waldi and his friends truly delighted in 
playing for the public. They knew when they 
had done well. If one of them misbehaved, 
or did not do his best work, he was not 
allowed to appear at the next performance. 
This made him so unhappy that he was ready 
to do his best the next time he went Qn, 


WALDI 


191 


Nothing made one of the little dachhunds 
more unhappy than to see the other dogs go 
on without him. Sometimes he would pick a 
quarrel with one of the others, out of sheer 
jealousy. 

Thus with their devotion and their jeal¬ 
ousy, their loyalty to Nana and their pride 
in their work, every one of the little dachs¬ 
hunds was a real trouper. Nana never re¬ 
gretted her visit to the dog pound in Berlin, 
for from that visit there developed the finest 
troupe of dachshunds in the world. 

BUSTER 

Buster was a pit bull, and a great favorite of the 
family that owned her mother. One day, when Bus¬ 
ter was a very young dog, she wandered on to the 
railroad tracks with her mother. A swift train, 
roaring down the tracks, trapped the two dogs be¬ 
fore they could escape, and killed the older dog. 
Buster, however, crouched down between the rails, 
and the train passed over her. Aside from losing 
her tail, she was unharmed. This was a sad begin¬ 
ning to her life, but it did not seem to affect her. 

In the town where she lived, there was a watch¬ 
man named Al. Every night he made the rounds 


192 


HEROES ALL 


of the stores, to see that all doors were locked and 
all was well. Buster took a great liking to him and 
appointed herself as assistant watchman. For a few 
years she made the rounds with A1 every night. 
Then, one rainy night, A1 stopped for a few minutes 
to sit on a bench. Buster jumped up beside him, 
but she was wet and muddy. 

“Get down,” A1 said sharply, “you are too muddy 
to sit up here.” 

Buster got down and walked away. She went 
home, and never again accompanied the watchman 
on his rounds. A1 loved the dog, and was very sorry, 
but no matter how much he tried to coax her to go 
around with him again, Buster would never again 
have anything to do with him. Her feelings had 
been injured beyond repair. 



PRINCE 


"P RINCE is Waldi’s son. It was his bad 
-L luck to be born with a black coat instead 
of a handsome red-brown one like his fa¬ 
ther’s. When Nana first saw him she shook 
her head. “Well,” she said, “we will have to 
give him away. There is no place for a black 
dachshund in the act.” 

They found a good home for him with 
some people who were fond of dogs and 
thought he would be happy there. But as 
time went by, Prince pined sadly, nor would 
he eat. He was homesick for the other dogs. 

One day when his former mistress came 
to see him, Prince was beside himself with 
joy. He was so sure that he was going to be 
taken back again that Nana was very un¬ 
happy about him. At last, when it looked as 
though he might die of loneliness and un- 


193 


194 


HEROES ALL 


happiness, she went to fetch him. So Prince, 
with his black coat so unlike the others, was 
taken back home. 

He was eight months old, very bright and 
anxious to learn, but there was nothing for 
him to do. The poor little fellow could not 
understand why he was left behind each day 
when the other dogs trooped merrily out to 
do their act, dressed up in their green collars 
and leashes. He whined to go too. 

One day his mistress said, “If there were 
some way of changing that black coat of 
yours, you could have a part in the act.” 
That started her to thinking. She could not 
change his coat but she could cover it up. 

“I’ll make a little costume for him that will 
be a complete disguise. And he shall have a 
part to play that will be all his own.” 

She made a little frock of bright red and 
blue calico, with very full skirts. When she 
slipped it over his head, with his short fore¬ 
legs through the sleeves, and tied a red ban¬ 
danna over his small sleek head, no one could 


PRINCE 


195 


tell whether Prince was black or brown. 
Nana called him Aunt Jemima and said that 
he should play at being a mammy. First he 
had to learn to walk on his funny little hind 
legs. Next he learned to push a doll carriage 
in which were three tiny Chiuhuahua pup¬ 
pies. Then to make the act funnier, she 
taught him to fall down. When she picked 
him up, he learned to fall down again, and 
still again. Finally his act ended with Nana 
carrying him off in disgrace for being so bad. 

Now he was happy. In fact he was so 
pleased at being given something to do that 
he mastered in one month the routines which 
another dog would have taken five months 
to learn. When he was just a year old he 
made his debut as Aunt Jemima. The chil¬ 
dren were delighted with his mammy act. 

Prince enjoyed playing Aunt Jemima so 
much that when anything happened to inter¬ 
fere with his appearance, he was distressed 
and puzzled. One evening they were to play 
in a theater where the stage was too narrow 


196 


HEROES ALL 


to permit Prince and his baby carriage to go 
on. It was decided that he should not appear 
that night. All alone, back stage, he howled 
dismally, feeling sorry for himself. When 
the other dogs trotted off the stage, wrig¬ 
gling with pleasure because they had given 
a good performance and had been praised 
for it, Prince could not endure it any longer. 
Growling crossly, he pitched into them, one 
and all. In a second they were in a wild jum¬ 
ble, with their sixteen leashes in such a tan¬ 
gle that it took Nana and her husband 
almost an hour to straighten them out. Al¬ 
though Prince was punished for his display 
of temper by being left alone for awhile, he 
was not cured. 

It was some time after this that Waldi and 
the troupe were playing in the theater of 
another city. When it was almost time to go 
on, Prince was buttoned into his calico dress 
and taken to the wings. There he was tied 
to a chair to await his turn. Did something 
frighten him, or was he afraid that he was 


Prince 


m 


going to be left out again? At any rate, just 
as Waldi was leading the other dogs through 
their act, there was a bang and a wild clatter. 
Prince came dashing in on all fours, tripping 
over his long skirts, dragging the chair be¬ 
hind him. His bandanna was over one eye 
at a rakish angle. He looked very foolish. 
The clatter of the chair, bouncing behind 
him, frightened him and he made a rush 
across the stage. Before anyone could stop 
him he had jumped across the footlights. 
Crash, bang, boom! Prince landed exactly 
in the middle of the big drum with the chair 
tumbling down on top of him. 

Poor Prince! While the crowd roared with 
laughter, he was pulled out of the drum, 
quite unharmed but badly scared. The drum 
fared worse. Nana had to pay the drummer 
twenty-five dollars for the damage which 
Prince had done. Prince had learned his les¬ 
son, however, and after that he was always 
a good trouper. 


GOLDA 


G OLD A is another member of Waldi’s 
troupe of clever dachshunds. She was 
purchased in New Jersey, having been 
chosen from several other puppies because 
she seemed the prettiest and most lovable of 
the lot. Nana and her husband soon discov¬ 
ered, however, that she would not be able to 
learn the routines with the other dogs be¬ 
cause she was too timid. They decided to 
keep her in spite of that for she was charm¬ 
ing and amiable even though so timid. 

One day while Nana and her husband were 
traveling to an engagement, they stopped 
the car to let the dogs have a run in a field. 
When the dogs were taken out they found to 
their dismay that Golda was missing, and 
no one could remember when she had last 
been seen. When one recalls that there were 


198 


GOLDA 


199 


sixteen dachshunds, all the same color except 
Prince, this does not seem strange. But it 
was sad that it should be Golda, the most 
timid one of the group, who should be lost. 
How frightened she must be. 

There was no time to turn back. Anxious 
as they were, they still must go on in order 
to keep their engagement. 

They reached their destination and a day 
and a night passed. Nana could not sleep for 
thinking of little Golda, lost and alone. On 
the second day she decided to send a tele¬ 
gram to the Fair Grounds on the chance that 
someone might possibly be there to receive 
it. She wired that a small red dachshund 
was lost, offering a generous reward for her 
return. It seemed a hopeless venture, but 
it was all that she could do. 

Imagine her joy when an answer came at 
once, from a man who had been appointed 
caretaker. He said Golda had been picked 
up and was being sent to them. Three days 
later Golda arrived by express. The re- 


200 


HEROES ALL 


union was happy and noisy. Golda was as 
full of joy to see her people and all the dogs 
again as they were to welcome her. 

Now comes the strange part of Golda’s 
story. During the time she was lost, Golda, 
who had always been too timid to appear, 
too frightened even to try to learn anything, 
had somehow, somewhere, lost all her fear. 
She had been out in the world, and now 
had as much confidence as any of the dogs 
in the troupe. After that she began to take 
an interest in what the others were doing 
and before long Nana found that Golda could 
learn their tricks. From then on she ap¬ 
peared with Rita in every performance of 
the difficult wire-balancing act. Golda and 
Rita are the only two dachshunds in the 
world who can do this feat. Golda, too, had 
become a real trouper. 


THE TWENTY-FIVE CENT PUP 


R AGS first saw daylight in a firehouse on 
- West Fifty-seventh Street, in one of 
the toughest sections of New York City. The 
earliest sound that came to his small ears 
was the jangle of alarm bells and the answer¬ 
ing wail of sirens as the huge engines roared 
out of the station. 

The fire station was his mother’s home, 
but it was no place for a family of lively 
puppies. So the firemen gave them away to 
anyone who came along. The last puppy 
was given to a bleary-eyed, ragged tramp 
who shuffled into the station one bitter cold 
Sunday afternoon. After he had warmed 
himself, he left with the tiny mop of fur 
tucked inside his coat. He hoped, as he wan¬ 
dered along the snowy street, that he could 
sell the puppy for at least the price of a meal. 


201 


202 


HEROES ALL 


Soon a man came down the street, head 
bent against the driving snow, his hands 
buried in his pockets. He glanced impatient¬ 
ly at the ragged tramp who stopped him. 

“Buy a pup?” 

The man shook his head. 

“Only a quarter.” 

Again he shook his head and started on. 
Suddenly he stopped. The ragged tramp was 
pitiful, but the little puppy peering anxiously 
out from the inside of the tramp’s shabby 
coat, was more so. 

“Where did you get him?” 

The tramp told him about the dog at the 
firehouse. 

The man didn’t want a dog. He had never 
wanted one. He even wondered why other 
people wanted dogs. But the homeless puppy 
was such a sad-looking little object that he 
reached down for a quarter, handed it to 
the tramp, and took the shivering puppy in 
his hands. 

He had bought a dog! The joke was on 





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THE TWENTY-FIVE CENT PUP 205 

him. “Well,” he thought, “I’ll give him away 
to someone who is looking for a dog.” 

The two went home, the puppy snuggled 
in the man’s pocket. When he was washed 
and brushed, the tiny fellow looked much 
like a lamb, with his snowy curls and gentle 
eyes. His new master named him Rags. 
Quite certain that he had found a good home 
and a kind master, Rags played happily 
about. But the man was not so certain about 
the puppy’s having found a home. For one 
thing he was an actor and much of his life 
was spent in travel. 

Each day he thought, “I must give him 
away. I can’t be bothered with a dog. What 
shall I do with him when I’m on the road?” 

But each day small Rags picked up some 
funny little trick or odd new way to endear 
himself. Besides, for one so young, he was 
an unusually intelligent and well-behaved 
puppy. 

At the end of a week the man looked at 
him and said, “You are just a shaggy little 


206 


HEROES ALL 


mutt. You came from a firehouse, and you 
only cost a quarter and no one knows who 
your ancestors were, but I’m going to keep 
you, old fellow.” 

Rags was not surprised. It was just what 
he had expected. 

For his own amusement Rags’s master 
taught him tricks. Rags learned quickly. 
With scarcely any effort he was soon able to 
walk across the room on his hind legs and 
he was most obliging about showing off. In 
the rear of the house was a garden where 
children played. One day Rags’s master 
looked out the window just in time to see 
Rags pushing a doll carriage across the yard, 
much to the children’s delight. Then and 
there he decided that Rags had a future. 

That Christmas the children of New York 
saw Rags make his first stage appearance 
in a show called Horse Play. Rags rode a 
donkey, pushed a baby carriage, climbed 
ladders, and performed in many other ways. 
He was very much petted and admired. 


THE TWENTY-FIVE CENT PUP 


207 


In the spring a play came to New York 
called Storm Over Patsy. The play described 
the troubles of a young couple over a dog 
named Patsy. Rags was taken to try for the 
part of Patsy. There were hundreds of other 
dogs whose owners wanted the role for their 
pets, but Rags was chosen from them all. 
His picture was shown in the papers. When 
he appeared in the play, he won people’s 
hearts. 

Soon after this an odd thing happened. 
People began to want dogs just like Rags 
for their children or for themselves. Pet 
shops received hundreds of calls asking for 
Patsy dogs. The pet shop keepers did not 
know what to do about it. Rags was of no 
special breed. He was just himself. They 
could not find another dog just like him. Peo¬ 
ple who wanted Patsy dogs had to be content 
with some other kind or else go without. 

The little dog from the firehouse was mak¬ 
ing a name for himself. He posed for adver¬ 
tisements. His picture appeared in illustra- 


208 


HEROES ALL 


tions for magazine stories. Though popular 
and very busy, he was always the same lov¬ 
able little fellow with wistful, brown eyes. 

By now his master, who had once wondered 
why anyone should bother to keep a dog, be¬ 
gan to wonder if there really were people 
who didn’t like dogs. One Sunday he and 
Rags were walking along the docks where 
the ocean liners unload their cargoes. They 
had stopped to look at a giant round-the- 
world freighter that had just come into port. 
A man walked down the gangplank with a 
small terrier in his arms and came over to 
where Rags was standing beside his master. 

He said that he had been watching them 
and could see that Rags was well cared for 
and happy. The little dog he was holding 
was a Welsh terrier who had never set foot 
on land. She had been born on the ship six 
months before. Now he was looking for an¬ 
other job and he must find a home for her. 
Mitzi was her name. Would Rags’s master 
take her? The answer was yes. 


THE TWENTY-FIVE CENT PUP 209 

Rags accepted Mitzi into the family with 
his usual gentle friendliness. He took good 
care of her, watching to see that no harm 
came near her. Once in a while, after they 
had been in the yard, Rags would come into 
the house alone. 

“What!” his master would say, “have you 
left Mitzi out there all alone?” At that Rags 
always trotted out again to bring Mitzi into 
the house with him. 

A day came when the play in which Rags’s 
master was appearing was sent out on the 
road. He found a place where Mitzi could 
stay, but he would not leave Rags. The 
tousled, lovable pup began a new life that 
took him on trains, to unfamiliar hotels and 
new dressing rooms. He learned to wait 
quietly and patiently for his master’s return 
after the play. He discovered that it was bad 
manners to bark noisily around the back- 
stage area, and that dogs, if they are to be 
there, must behave themselves. 

There were three other dogs traveling 


210 


HEROES ALL 


with their owners in the same company. 
When Christmas came the members of the 
company trimmed two Christmas trees, one 
for the dogs, and one for the children who 
appeared in the play. The trees were set up 
on the stage and hung with tinsel and gay 
ornaments. On the dogs’ tree there were new 
leashes, rubber balls, dog bones, and boxes 
of delicious dog candy. Rags had never had 
a more exciting Christmas. 

The company traveled west with the play 
and arrived in Chicago. While Rags and his 
master were there, one of the newspapers 
announced that a great non-pedigreed dog 
show would be held. Any dog who was a 
mutt could be entered. A guest of honor for 
the show was chosen, and—yes—it was Rags, 
the charming, lamb-like frowsy pup who was 
born in a firehouse on Fifty-seventh Street, 
New York City. Rags’s master had paid only 
twenty-five cents for him, but no money in 
the world could ever tempt him to sell this 
lovable little mongrel, 


SOME FAMOUS MODELS 


D OGS have always been a favorite sub¬ 
ject with artists. The most famous 
painter of dogs the world has known was 
Sir Edwin Landseer, an English artist. He 
was called the Raphael of Dogs. By his pen¬ 
cil and brush he brought fame to dogs who 
otherwise would never have become known. 
Dogs loved him, knowing that he loved and 
understood them. 

Edwin Landseer was born in England in 
1802. When he was very young he began to 
draw. A sketch of a dog which he made when 
only five years old, can be seen today in the 
museum at South Kensington, in England. 

Edwin’s father very wisely put him to 
study with good teachers. It has always been 
a great honor for a British artist to have his 
work hung in the Royal Academy exhibi- 

2U 


212 


HEROES ALL 


tions. This honor was given to Edwin when 
he was a lad of thirteen for a painting he 
had made of a pointer and her puppy. Peo¬ 
ple found it difficult to believe that this paint¬ 
ing was done by one so young. His master 
in art was very proud of his brilliant young 
pupil and called him his “curly-headed dog 
boy.” 

At that time, while walking along the 
street one day, Edwin saw a beautiful St. 
Bernard dog being led by a servant. It was 
an immense animal. 

The boy had never seen one like him and 
was amazed at his beauty and great size. 
His first thought was, “If only I could paint 
him!” 

He followed the servant and the dog home 
and there he learned that the dog’s name 
was Lion. Lion had come from the Hospice 
of St. Bernard in Switzerland, where he had 
been trained. He was supposed to be the 
largest dog in England at that time. Edwin 
found that he measured six feet four inches. 


SOME FAMOUS MODELS 


213 


from nose to tail. In spite of his great size 
and fierce name, Lion was gentle as a lamb. 
He was also very brave. Shortly after he had 
come to England, he had saved a woman 
from drowning. 

To young Edwin, he was the most inter¬ 
esting dog he had ever seen. He was happy 
when he was given permission to paint Lion 
and the likeness he made of him was very 
fine. 

A few years later, Landseer painted Lion 
again, this time showing him against a back¬ 
ground of his native mountains, and beside 
him his son Caesar, another splendid dog. 
The painting represented them as saving an 
Alpine traveler after he had fallen exhaus- 
ed in the snow. Caesar is seen licking the 
traveler to warm him, while Lion, his head 
held high, is baying for help. Through the 
storm one sees the dim forms of the monks 
coming to the rescue of the man. Lion lived 
to a good old age and was made famous by 
this painting. 


214 


HEROES ALL 


Brutus, Vixen, and Boxer were three lit¬ 
tle terriers belonging to Landseer, of whom 
he was very fond. Brutus was a merry little 
fellow who often posed for his master. When 
Landseer was eighteen years of age, he 
painted his dogs in a picture called The Bat 
Catchers. It shows the three terriers in a 
barn, hunting busily for rats. 

He painted all kinds of dogs, from haughty 
members of the royalty and aristocracy down 
to common little street dogs. He found some¬ 
thing in each one to make an interesting 
picture. Many of his paintings were of 
Scotch collies, showing them at their work 
of herding the sheep, or in the Highland 
homes with their masters, the shepherds. 

Some of his paintings told amusing stories, 
others were sad. While he was still a very 
young man, people were so delighted with 
his portraits of dogs that they began besieg¬ 
ing him to paint their pets. Although he 
painted quickly, he could not keep up with 
the commissions that poured in. 






































































































































































































































































































































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SOME FAMOUS MODELS 


217 


A gentleman by the name of Jacob Bell 
owned a very fine and beautiful bloodhound 
named Countess. He asked Landseer to paint 
her. Months passed, then a year and finally 
two years, and still the artist had not been 
able to get at the portrait of Countess. 

The dog’s master went away for a visit. 
While he was gone she became used to lying 
on a balcony of the house that overhung the 
driveway, sleeping there and watching for 
his return. One night she heard the sound 
of wheels, and then his voice. She was so 
delighted that she leaped to her feet but in 
doing so lost her balance. Countess fell 
twenty feet to the ground and was so injured 
that she died shortly after, to her master’s 
great grief. 

He carried her body in his arms to Land¬ 
seer’s studio. There he found the artist very 
busy at his work. Mr. Bell begged him to 
paint her immediately, so that he might have 
the picture to keep in memory of his beauti¬ 
ful dog. The artist with kindly sympathy, 


218 


HEROES ALL 


put aside his work and told his friend to re¬ 
turn in three days. 

When Mr. Bell returned at the end of that 
time, he found that Landseer had made a 
portrait of Countess, lying as though she 
were sleeping. This picture is known 
throughout the world and is called The 
Sleeping Bloodhound. It hangs in the 
National Gallery in London, though few of 
the people who stop to admire it know the 
story that lies behind it. 

Another dog by the name of Lion served 
as model for Landseer. This dog was also 
very large, but he was a Newfoundland. He 
was good-natured, quiet, and very slow. 
When he posed for his portrait he was so 
sleepy that Landseer almost gave up in de¬ 
spair. He wanted to paint him while in ac¬ 
tion, but Lion refused to be active. At last 
Landseer brought a trap in which a mouse 
had been caught and was running around, 
and opened it in the studio very near to Lion. 
Immediately the big dog gave chase after 


SOME FAMOUS MODELS 


219 


the tiny creature. Suddenly it disappeared. 
The artist was puzzled. Lion also had a puz¬ 
zled expression on his face for a moment. 
Then he opened his mouth. Out popped the 
little mouse and ran away, this time for good. 
It had taken refuge inside of Lion’s great 
mouth! 

As the good-natured Newfoundland was 
walking along a canal path one day, a barge 
passed close to the shore. A man on the 
barge jokingly poked an oar at the dog’s 
broad, shaggy side. Lion did not think it 
funny. He seized the oar and pulled it so 
suddenly that the man toppled overboard 
into the water. Of course he was pulled out 
to safety, but not by Lion. The Newfound¬ 
land, although of a breed which is famous 
for rescuing people from the water, was not 
interested in saving his tormentor. 

A little dog whose name no one bothered 
to record, was the subject of another of 
Landseer’s famous paintings. This is the 
story behind that picture. During the battle 


220 


HEROES ALL 


of Waterloo, a soldier whose name was Wil¬ 
liams was wounded by a cannon ball, losing 
a leg. As he lay on the battlefield, a little 
dog limped to his side and snuggled there. 
The poor little creature had lost an eye and 
had one leg shattered by shot. He seemed to 
have come to the soldier for sympathy, or 
perhaps to offer it to him. 

When Williams was carried away from the 
battlefield to the hospital, the dog followed 
and stayed beside him through the weeks 
that followed. Williams recovered and his 
government rewarded him with a wooden 
leg and a pension for his services. He be¬ 
came a familiar sight as he stumped about 
the streets of London, with the little dog, a 
veteran of the same battle, close at his side. 
Landseer liked the dog’s story so much that 
he painted him with his master. This picture 
aroused the people of the country to a great 
interest in helping wounded and disabled 
soldiers. 

Dogs always trusted Landseer. One eve- 


SOME FAMOUS MODELS 


221 


rung he had gone for a visit at a home where 
a large and very fierce dog was kept. When 
the door was opened, the dog rushed at him, 
alarming everyone but the artist himself. 
But instead of harming him, the dog began 
to leap about and lick his hand in the most 
friendly manner. 

“He must know you,” said one of the 
guests. 

“No, he never saw me before,” the artist 
answered, to their surprise. 

Among the many dogs who sat for him, 
were those belonging to the Queen, Victoria. 
One day the Queen asked Landseer how it 
happened that he understood dogs so well. 

“By peeping into their hearts,” he said. 


THE LOST GOLD PIECE 

One of the oddest little stories of dogs who have 
guarded their masters’ property is that of the lost 
gold piece. An Englishman was traveling through 
Europe with his dog. One morning he left his lodg- 


222 


HEROES ALL 


ings to go out for a day of sightseeing. He left the 
dog at home. As he went to pay for his breakfast in 
a cafe, he discovered that a gold piece, which he 
knew he had, was missing. He searched through 
his pockets, then decided that he must have lost it. 

After being gone all day he returned to his lodg¬ 
ings and asked the servant how his dog had fared in 
his absence. 

“Oh, monsieur! He must be ill. He has not eaten 
his food all day!” 

The Englishman was alarmed and hurried up¬ 
stairs, expecting to find a very sick dog. He was 
much surprised, and also very happy, when his dog 
came running to meet him. After the dog had greeted 
his master joyfully, he suddenly opened his mouth 
and dropped a gold coin at his feet. 

The Englishman picked it up and saw that it was 
the very piece he thought he had lost. He had evi¬ 
dently dropped it in his room before leaving, and 
the dog had picked it up and held it in his mouth 
to guard it, probably from the servants who had 
come and gone throughout the day. He had refused 
to eat rather than lay it aside. 

As soon as his master picked up the coin, the dog 
rushed over to his dish and hungrily gulped down 
his food. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


Edward, Second Duke 
of York. 

The Master of Game 

Humphrey and Warner 

Working Dogs 

Jesse . 

Dog Life . Compilation 
published by Thomas 
Nelson & Sons, London. 
Anecdotes of Dogs 

Stephanitz. 

The German Shepherd 
Dog 

Manson. 

Sir Edwin Landseer 

Nature Magazine, 
February, 1939 


223 




























































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